You Called Me Beautiful
by Theyumenoinu
Summary: The start of the five year mission began with a Vulcan who was desperately attempting to avoid him. Jim slowly comes to terms that his friend has feeling for him and he, surprisingly, can reciprocate them. After a passionate night, Spock claims that he cannot be with Jim because of Uhura. But Jim knows he doesn't love her. Sortof sequel to: Don't Forget Me. Slow building K/S slash.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've noticed I tend to lean toward darker or sad stories and decided I needed to try a new approach. Also I've noticed I've been leaning more towards TOS. So I'd thought I'd give young Jim and Spock a run for their money. It takes place after "Into Darkness" so SPOILER ALERT. This fic was inspired by P!nk's song: It's All Your Fault. Please review and enjoy!**

**This is the sort of sequel to "Don't Forget Me"**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Star Trek franchise or its characters.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

He sighed heavily, tracing down the last bit of alcohol at the bottom of his glass before leaning back in his chair, his head resting back against the wall. Closing his eyes, he reminisced about the event that took place only hours ago. Had that really happened? Jim shook his head; he had to be reading too far into this. The Vulcan was dating Uhura; he must have been imagining it.

_But are you sure?_ His mind buzzed with the question.

Sighing again, he reached for the nearly empty bottle, tipping it clumsily into the glass, spilling liquid over the sides onto his hand. Ignoring it, he held the cool glass to his lips, tipping it back and indulging in the potent burn that welled at the back of his throat. Jim wanted to forget it, wanted that memory to be erased completely. But the more he tried to push it away, the more it dominated his thoughts.

The Vulcan had been acting quite skittish around him, well as skittish as a Vulcan could act, since he had been reanimated from death. He would stiffen every time Jim was near him and avoid eye contact as best as he could; diverting his attention at anything he could pinpoint his eyes on as long as it wasn't Jim. When they'd pass in the hallways, he wouldn't acknowledge him without speaking to him first. It was irritating. The other members of his crew had reached a point of friendly familiarity, releasing any built tension that was formed from his death. And he was grateful that none of them would mention it, keeping their topics light hearted.

After a couple weeks into the five year mission, Jim had finally had it with Spock's indifferent behavior. He watched the Vulcan at the Science Station, busying himself, keeping his back turned toward him. He didn't realize he'd been staring so intently at the Vulcan's backside until he heard the ring of Uhura's voice.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?"

Jim's body jerked in alarm. Her voice was professional but he could hear the underlining of animosity in her tone.

"No, Lieutenant. I was just 'spacing' out a little." He shot her a cocky grin and she rolled her eyes at him, returning to her work. He chuckled; lately he'd taken great pleasure in annoying her. It was too easy.

"Captain, Alpha shift has ended. I will be retiring to my quarters for the evening."

Jim jerked again; he hadn't heard or seen him approach. Either that or he was becoming jumpy. He noticed how easy it was for people to scare him since the Wrath of Khan. The other week a couple of Ensigns had quickly darted around the corner and he had nearly screamed in fright. He quickly had to muster up a valid threat if they decided to spread the rumor of the captain's nerves amongst the crew.

"Alright, Mr. Spock." He breathed. The replacement Science Officer had already taken over the station. He felt a wave of anger flare over him as he noticed Spock was staring passed him.

The Vulcan nodded, striding away toward the Turbolift. Jim sat there for a moment, debating with himself before sliding from his chair, half jogging to catch the lift. Spock kept his eyes set heavily on the doors as it descended, his arms folded neatly behind his back. Jim trembled angrily beside him, why wouldn't he look at him? He turned and smashed his fist over the emergency stop button and let out a frustrated sigh as the lift came to a halt.

"Captain?" Spock asked; eyes still set on the doors.

"Dammit, Spock! What is going on? Why have you been trying to avoid me?" He glared up at him and when the Vulcan still didn't turn to look at him, his anger turned to rage. "Is it something I did? Did I piss you off? Look at me!"

Suddenly dark eyes turned and bored into his. He gasped; they were deep with an emotion Jim couldn't place. He could feel the weight of them; could swear they stared through him, peeking into his very soul. Jim felt the anger slip away from him, his heart leapt into his throat, a small amount of panic welled up inside him.

"I have not been avoiding you because you have angered me." His voice was barely above a whisper. He took a step toward him and Jim's breath caught as he was backed against the wall. The brown eyes never glanced away, set heavily upon Jim. "You do not recall what you had said to me?"

Jim furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What I said to you? When?" He whispered. His voice was lost as he was drowning in those eyes. Where they always this deep? Did they always shimmer with a light of their own? He remembered the elder Spock, his eyes were warm but they were not nearly as deep as Spock's was, they pulled him in and held him firmly. Jim shifted uncomfortably under the gaze.

Spock stayed silent, reaching his hand up passed Jim's shoulder and leaned it against the wall, inches from his head. He leaned in steadily and Jim felt the pounding of his heart intensify, he couldn't breathe, held captive by those dark eyes. His body trembled, but not out of fear. He felt the hot breath on his face, Spock's face only inches from his, his lips hovering over his own. Jim swallowed a mouth full of saliva, trying to fight back the lump in his throat.

"Spock?" His voice was shaky, barely audible.

Spock's eyes slid shut, taking in a small breath before he pushed himself away from him, pressing the control box, turning his back to him. Jim stayed glued to the wall, panting slightly, watching him. The lift's door flew open with a hiss and Spock turned for them then quickly came to an abrupt halt.

"Forgive me, Captain." He said without looking back before departing the lift.

Jim stared after him until the doors closed shut.

He shook the memory from his head, reaching for the bottle again but found it was empty. Placing the glass down onto his desk, he roughly rubbed his hand through his hair. He was being ridiculous, Spock wouldn't kiss him he loved Uhura. Didn't he? Sure they had their spats, well mostly stemming from Uhura, but he'd still catch them in the hallway entangled in a tender moment and would quickly retreat away from the scene.

It wasn't a secret to know that Spock's looks were beautifully stoic and unflawed. What allured Jim to him was the Vulcan's intellectual demeanor; finding it amusing to engage in heated discussions and watching his brain try to comprehend Jim's mild teasing. He was a loyal friend, someone Jim knew he could count on other than Bones. It was comforting to know that their rocky beginning had smoothed out over time. But he couldn't help but think of times on the bridge before the incident with Khan. He'd feel a pair of eyes watching him and would look up to find Spock staring. He thought maybe he was waiting to catch Jim's attention before informing him about his findings or other important data, but maybe now as he reflected on it, that might not have been the reason.

A familiar chime rung through his quarters and he groaned. He didn't feel up to having any company at the moment. As he stood, his legs shook violently and he fell against the wall, keeping himself propped up. The world was spinning and he could feel a wave of nausea burning up his throat. He stumbled over to the door, swallowing back a small amount of bile before punching the button to release the doors.

He felt his heart stop as two dark eyes once again connected with his, could feel the blood drain from his face.

"Spock? What are you doing here?" Jim's voice slurred, gripping onto the doorframe to keep him steady.

"I wish to convey my deepest apologies for my previous actions, Captain."

"Jim! How many times do I-I have to tell you to call me Jim?" He turned from the Vulcan, stumbling back into the room, his arms flailing out in anger, "You save my life and you can't even call me b-by my name?" The room was swimming and he felt a heat flare over his body as the last shot of alcohol finally had processed in his blood stream, entering his brain.

"Jim, you are inebriated." Spock's voice said mildly from behind him.

Jim spun around to him, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"See? Was that so hard? Has a nice ring to it w-when you say it." He couldn't fight back the flush in his cheeks; it gave him an unusual feeling when he heard Spock say his name. It was almost intimate like how a lover would whisper sweet nothings; it was rare but made it all the more exhilarating when it happened.

"I will help you to your bed, I insist you rest." Spock's hands were suddenly gripping Jim's arms.

Jim couldn't help it, his charm kicked in, fueled by the liquid courage he had indulged in as he said in a sensual voice, "Only if you join me."

Spock's hands clenched his arms tighter but his face stayed blank of emotion.

"Jim, you must rest." He pleaded, attempting to lead him toward the bed. Jim stumbled as he let Spock guide him into his sleeping quarters, but before he fell onto the bed his hand reached out and grabbed the Vulcan's arm, pulling him down with him. Spock had fallen on top of Jim, his face inches away, his eyes wide in surprise and Jim smiled devilishly at him.

"Don't apologize for a kiss, Spock." He said, his arms locking around his back, holding him firmly to prevent him from escaping.

"Jim—" But before Spock could finish, Jim pushed his head up and kissed him roughly. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't, but something stirred inside him that he had not known was there. He let that feeling wash over him, indulging in the Vulcan's hot lips. Iron hands were grabbing his arms, tugging them away and pinning them onto the bed, allowing Spock to break away from the kiss, pushing himself off of him to stand back as far as possible. He was panting slightly, a flush of light green danced across his face.

"I must return to my quarters." He breathed, whipping around and hastily exiting from the room. Jim lied back onto the bed, his fingertips tracing his lips gently. What the hell was he doing?

* * *

**A/N: I find it strange writing these younger counterparts (since I'm more used to TOS) but I hope it's going all right. Thanks for reading, and please review and let me know how it is!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Because one chapter is never enough to get into a story (at least for me), here's another one. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Jim fought to regain consciousness, groaning at the pounding in his head. He found that he was still wearing his uniform; it clung to the sweat of his body, the lower half of him dangled from the side of the bed, an agonizing pain shooting from his spine. It wasn't long before Spock had left that he had passed out. He stopped at the thought; Spock was in his room last night.

Spock helped him to the bed.

Jim kissed him.

_Shit!_ His mind screamed as he bolted upright, instantly regretting it as the world spun and he lurched forward, retching up the remnants of his alcohol induced party-of-one that he had partaken in earlier. His face burned angrily, and his skin felt clammy as he scrubbed his face in shame. What had he been thinking? Surely now he would try harder to avoid him.

A chirp at his computer erupted through the silence, and he painfully pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly, fighting back another wave of nausea. He plopped down onto his chair, sighing heavily as he pressed the transmission to allow the message through.

"Kirk here." He nearly whispered, clenching his jaw, trying to breathe slowly.

"Captain Kirk. You don't look well, are you ill?"

Jim gulped, Admiral Bullock was the last person he wanted to speak to right now, especially while extremely hung over. He tried to straighten himself, a cocky grin creeping across his face.

"Admiral, good to hear from you. Yeah, I'm fine thanks for asking." He cursed his voice for sounding shaky. "What can I do for you?"

"We've received a distress call from _Cestus III._" He glared daggers at him, folding his hands together. Jim knew the Admiral wasn't exactly fond of him, but Jim had saved the planet more than once, so he couldn't quite disregard him.

"Did they give a reason?" He placed a fist to his mouth, attempting to hide the small gag as bile shot up his throat. He didn't want any orders right now; he just wanted a shower and to fall back asleep. But he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"It was pertained to an alien vessel attacking the planet. That was all we received before the transmission cut off."

"Klingons?" Jim asked curiously.

"Possibly, but we're not sure. Since you're the nearest flagship in the quadrant, we want you to immediately set course and aid them."

Jim held back the urge to rub at his throbbing temple as he nodded.

"Understood. Kirk out." He switched the transmission off and slouched in the chair, emitting all his misery and discomfort into an exasperated sigh. He had to go back to work, back to the bridge where Spock was. He wasn't quite ready to face him after last night. Jim wondered if the Vulcan would want to talk about it, or maybe he'd pretend it never happened. Had he told Uhura already? He shuddered at the thought, if he had informed her he was in for it, the Lieutenant was ruthless. God help him.

Dragging himself from the chair, he entered the adjoined bathroom that he shared with the First Officer. Jim always wondered what the Vulcan did in the bathroom; he never kept any of his hygienic belongings on the countertops like Jim did. In fact, he didn't understand the Vulcan's patience with his untidiness. He'd usually leave streaks of toothpaste on the sink or clothes on the floor. But Spock hadn't complained, just simply cleaned up the mess while Jim was off on duty.

He scrubbed himself quickly, fearing that he would vomit in the shower, telling himself that he would never drink that much again. While he was in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head while he exited his quarters, he didn't notice someone was standing there and bumped into him, stumbling slightly. He finished pulling the shirt down with a grunt, peeved at whoever it was and didn't bother to warn him of their presence, only to be shocked at the familiar Vulcan standing there.

"Oh, uh, good morning." He mumbled glancing away from him as he turned to walk toward the Turbolift. His heart pounding in his ears, realizing it wasn't just from the hangover.

"Good morning, Captain. I was merely coming to ascertain your condition before you were required on the Bridge." He walked steadily by Jim but wasn't looking at him and for once Jim was grateful for it.

They entered into the Turbolift, shifting away from each other as much as possible in the small space. It was Jim's turn to stare intently at the doors, fidgeting with the hem of his uniform. He could feel the heat rising in his face, trying hard to avoid the inevitable conversation that was lurking on the horizon.

"So, you were checking up on me?" He gave a breathy laugh, "I'm a grown man, Spock. I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"On the contrary, even though you have obtained status of adulthood, the inebriated state you were in last night conveys that you have not yet reached maturity. And in previous demonstrations of your impulsive nature suggests that you indeed need someone to attend to your wellbeing."

Jim cleared his throat, shifting his weight between his feet.

"And that would be you?" Jim glanced at him and was startled when Spock shifted his head to meet his gaze.

"As I am your First Officer, it is my duty to insure you are at optimal health."

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. The heat in Jim's face was burning intensely, he couldn't fight it.

"What happened last night—" Jim began but was interrupted as the Turbolift's doors swished open to reveal the Bridge. He sighed as he left the lift, feeling his familiar shadow at his backside. He strolled over to his chair, plopping down onto it, rubbing his throbbing temples and moaned softly.

"Keptain, are yew feeling vell?" Chekov asked, looking back to him concerned.

"I'm fine, Mr. Chekov." He lied as he stood to brief the Bridge of Starfleet's new orders, "Admiral Bullock has informed me they have received a distress call from _Cestus III, _they are under attack by an unidentified alien vessel and require our immediate assistance. Mr. Sulu, lay in course for _Cestus III _and set engines to maximum warp."

"Aye, Sir."

"Lieutenant Uhura." He flinched as she turned to him, trying to read her blank face, attempting to find any lingering contempt for him. "Alert medical to standby for possible casualties."

"Yes, Captain." She said bleakly, turning away from him.

He felt the weight of a familiar gaze and allowed his sight to fleet over to the science station and wasn't at all surprised to find two dark eyes fixated on him. He broke away from the eye contact, staring at the dance of white and black playing out before him as they entered warp. His heart pounded in his chest, he wanted to flee the Bridge, to get some distance between them but he couldn't.

Sitting back into his chair, he gripped the armrests tightly. He couldn't avoid what happened for long. After they had completed this mission, he knew the topic had to be dealt with. He didn't mean to kiss him. Spock was his friend, he knew it was wrong, but he didn't quite find it distasteful either. There was a small pleasure to it and he didn't understand why when he thought about it, his lips tingled. Then there was what happened in the lift before his drunken rendezvous with his First Officer. Spock had almost kissed him, he was almost sure of it.

"Approaching _Cestus III_, Sir. ETA: two minutes." Sulu's voice cut him from his thoughts and was thankful for the distraction. They hadn't been far off from the planet so he wasn't shocked at the announcement.

"Thank you Mr. Sulu. Initiate standard orbit upon arrival and you'll have the _Conn._ Uhura; call Doctor McCoy to meet Mr. Spock and myself in the transporter room." He said; slipping from his chair and returning to the Turbolift, his familiar shadow followed without being told.

The ride was weighed with an awkward silence and Jim let out a strained breath once the doors opened, rushing from the lift and into the Transporter room without glancing back to see if Spock was behind him.

"Scotty, punch in the coordinates of the distress signal that Admiral Bullock sent over and beam us down on my command." He said, clapping the man's shoulder and giving him a half-hearted smile.

"Aye, Sir. Do ya think tha' it could be tha' Klingons?"

"I don't know." He said striding up onto the transporter pad, watching from his peripheral vision as Spock joined him silently.

"Why can't I ever be called for good news?" McCoy grumbled as he entered the room, "Like, 'hey Bones, we need you to transport down to this planet of beautiful women who will lavish you with all your deepest desires'? Oh my mistake, that's _your _department." His sarcastic tone rang heavily in the air as he approached the pad.

Jim chuckled, "Bones, I can't believe you have such little faith in me, I'd at least share a few of them."

"Jim Kirk, share women? Now that's a laugh." He rolled his eyes, stepping on the pad behind Jim.

Jim beamed with happiness; he could at least count on Bones to keep him distracted from the close proximity with Spock. The Vulcan stood eerily quiet beside them, and Jim curiously wondered what was transpiring in that intellectual mind of his.

"We're in orbit, Sir." Scotty said. Eyeing Spock suspiciously, feeling the tension in the room.

"Energize." Jim said and watched as the room faded away as a bright light engulfed him, only to rematerialize to a scene of pure devastation. The buildings were in ruin, smoke filled the air and giant craters were scattered around them.

"Spread out and look for survivors!" He shouted and took off four the building. Adrenaline coursed through him, pumping his legs, trying to reach the ruined building. He didn't hear the whining sound as an explosion rocked the ground next to him, sending him flying backwards onto the ground, stealing the breath from his body. There was a loud ringing in his right ear and he could feel a warm liquid soaking his hair.

Rolling onto his stomach, he began to crawl slowly. The ringing in his ear pierced through his skull, affecting his already pounding head. He rose to all fours and felt his stomach churn; he vomited violently onto the ground. The rancid smell of stomach acid and alcohol whipped up into his face. Jim groaned, his vision went vertigo, he couldn't concentrate between his hangover and the impact of the explosion, energy was depleting rapidly from his body.

Strong arms wrapped around him from behind, hoisting him to his feet. The arms held him in an iron vice as he was dragged backwards from the open field into the ruined building. The arms lowered him gently onto the ground; his back came to rest against a solid wall. His vision was a mix of colors moving around him at an intense rate, he closed his eyes to ease the dizziness but found flashes of light springing forth from the darkness. He could feel the warm liquid running down his neck, dampening his shirt.

"Captain, hold on!" Spock's voice seemed distant.

He felt something hot against his cheek and couldn't quite figure out what it was. Jim peeked his eyes open; a mix of blue and black swirled in front of him. Spock's thumb gingerly rubbed against his cheek and he leaned into it, the world was spinning upward, Spock's hand was the only thing solid his brain could comprehend.

The last thing that swam into his vision were two dark eyes before the world faded to black.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Will update as quickly as possible. Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Spoiler Alert! And I'd like to say I don't own Star Trek or its Characters. Or any of the lines taken from the movie!**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_Burning, God he was burning alive. Every muscle, every nerve was ablaze. The fire engulfed him, hitching the breath in his chest; each inhale was knife to the chest. The world was a blur, a sharp pain shooting through him as he scooted to the glass. He didn't want to continue, he wanted to lie there, but he had to reach the door, had to seal the inside door so they could retrieve his body. And he had to see him. _

_One last time._

_Two dark eyes softened at the sight of him. A flood of pain, fear, sadness enveloped the chocolate irises, a shimmer appeared low near his bottom lashes. A lump formed in his throat at the sight of him gazing down at him, drowning in despair. _

"_How's our ship?" His voice strained as he felt a heavy weight on his chest; increasing in pressure._

"_Out of danger." His voice was painfully soft; he had never heard him speak that way before. "You've saved the crew."_

_Jim felt relieved at the fact. He had saved his family, his ship._

_He had saved Spock._

"_You used what he wanted against him." The pressure on his chest was an incredible pain, it shot out through his body, down his arms, up into his neck. But in that moment, he wanted to laugh. He had always known the Vulcan was sneaky. But he couldn't breathe. God he couldn't breathe! "That was a nice move." His mouth twitched, attempting to smile. _

"_It is what you would have done." _

I thought you hated my impulsive and illogical decisions? _He thought as he swallowed, trying to ease the lump from his throat. _

"_And this-this is what you would have done." _

_The Vulcan's breath caught. Jim watched him struggle with that comment, his breathing slightly labored. What was he thinking? An unspoken thought lingered in his dark eyes. Jim didn't want to die; he didn't want to leave him. There were so many things he wanted to say, fear welled inside him, clenching his stomach in knots. He fought back the tears that were stinging his eyes, the realization that this was all they'd ever be. He had never told him._

"_I'm scared Spock, help me not be." His voice was barely above a whisper. The dark eyes darted down away from him and he felt a pang of rejection. "How do you choose not to feel?" _

How can you choose not to see how I feel about you?

_The Vulcan inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes returning to look at him, but this time the dark eyes glittered brightly. _

"_I do not know. Right now I'm failing." His voice wavered, coated with sorrow. _

_He was feeling, right here in this moment, watching Jim die. It was time, time to tell him, he could feel the energy leaving his body as his eyes grew heavy. _

"_I want you to know why I went back for you. Why I couldn't let you die."_

_Spock's body trembled as he whispered, "Because you are my friend." A single tear slid down his face. _

Please don't cry.

"_No." He whispered, "Because I love you. You're beautiful, Spock. Don't let anyone tell you different." _

_Spock's eyes grew wide but his face began to fade, darkness eating away at Jim's vision. He willed his arm upward, using the last of his strength as he pressed it against the glass. Spock was so close to him, so close, but he couldn't reach him. Through his failing vision, he saw Spock's trembling, pale hand reach towards his, laying gently on the glass in a Ta'al. _

_This was how Vulcans kiss._

_Spock was kissing him._

_Kissing him goodbye. _

_Jim moved his fingers to mirror his, coughing as his lungs collapsed. There was no more pain, the burning had ceased. He felt light, he was floating, glancing up to the dark eyes once again, taking them in one last time before the world faded away. _

* * *

Jim's eyes fluttered open and blinked back as a bright light flooded his vision. His face felt wet, he lifted his hand to his face and deduced that he had been crying. Great, just what he needed, the emotional Captain James T. Kirk. He closed his eyes again, how had he forgotten that? When he had awoken after death, he vaguely remembered dying, he knew Spock was there, but he couldn't remember their conversation. But he remembered his eyes, dark orbs staring down at him, deep with pain.

Something hot and gentle traced along his hand, it soothed him as his body slowly registered the pain. There was a dull ringing in his right ear, a soft pounding in the back of his head and a shooting pain was emanating from his right leg. He moaned softly, allowing the bright light to enter his vision again. The sensation at his hand ceased, slipping away from him.

"Captain?" The voice was soft but firm.

Jim groaned in response, "Why am I always the one who winds up here?"

"Because you're a moron, that's why." McCoy's voice cut through the air and made Jim flinch as it pierced his injured ear. "I swear Jim, if you used that thing three feet above your ass before you go flying into a situation, then maybe you'd spend a little less time here harassing me."

Jim cringed as McCoy stabbed a hypo into his neck then chuckled softly.

"Is that how you treat your number one patient?" Jim joked weakly.

McCoy snorted in response.

"More like the number one pain in my ass." He grumbled, flipping out his Tricorder and running it along Jim's body.

Jim's head shifted to look at Spock who stood there staring with a blank expression, his arms folded behind him. But Jim couldn't help but notice the heaviness to his eyes, he looked tired.

"What happened?"

"You ordered a search for casualties before departing for the ruined building. You were then impaired by an unidentified explosive device that detonated one-point-four meters away from you."

"Meaning, you're one lucky son-of-a-bitch, Jim." McCoy interjected, "Any closer and you'd be history. Isn't one brush with death enough for you?" He said as he gripped ahold of Jim's damaged ear, "Does this hurt?"

Jim cried out, "God! Fuck! _Yes_!" He cringed away from the doctor's touch.

"Well it serves you right!" He grumbled, "You can't keep doing this to me, Jim. I'm a Doctor not a miracle worker!"

As McCoy finished examining him, none too gently, Jim's mind quickly fleeted back to business.

"Were there any survivors?" He asked, his heart pounded, fearing the worst.

"Negative, Captain."

"Shit! I need to get to the Bridge. Bones, give me a hypo and—"

"Oh no! You're not going _anywhere_! You're eardrum ruptured and is infected, I took shrapnel out of your skull and other parts of your body, and you have a giant gash in your leg. You're staying here even if, so help me God, I have to tie you to the bed!"

Jim let out a frustrated sigh.

"It was an alien vessel, if I can get to the Bridge I can have Chekov run the scanners for traces from their ship when they went into warp and—"

"Are you that thick headed? I just told you, you aren't leaving. I'm sure Spock can handle things without you." McCoy let out an exasperated huff, "If you stay here for a few hours until I feel you've recovered enough then I'll let you go back to your quarters and rest there, alright?"

Jim realized this was the best he could get out of Bones and nodded. The disgruntled doctor sighed with frustration, checking over Jim's vital signs one last time before hastily leaving the room to check on any other patients he had.

Jim stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the gaze next to him.

"Spock?" He finally whispered, breaking the tension.

"Yes, Captain?"

He had so any questions to ask and so many things he wanted to say. But he lied there quietly, the words catching in his throat.

"Report to the Bridge and search for the ship's trail. We can't let them escape."

"Understood, Captain."

_Dammit, Jim! _

"Spock!" He cried out as the Vulcan was turning to leave.

"Yes, Captain?" He turned back; something flickered in the dark voids of his eyes before fading away.

"You can…come check up on me later." He said sheepishly, but managed to give him a weak grin.

He tilted his head down and nodded before his dark eyes blazed heavily into Jim's.

"I will…Jim."

* * *

**A/N: sorry for the short chapter! Writing with a baby in your lap, especially one that's teething, is extremely difficult. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow I'm really into this story right now. I really should go update my other stories…I'll do that after this chapter, I'm really enjoying writing these counterparts. **

* * *

**Chapter 4**

After a grueling four hours in Sickbay, Jim had finally convinced the doctor that he was well enough to be released, at least to his quarters. It had taken a lot of groveling and whining on Jim's part until McCoy finally had enough of him.

"Good God, man! Even my daughter doesn't complain this much!" He barked, stabbing another hypo into Jim's neck with a little more pressure than was necessary. "Now, get out of here before I kill you myself! And I _will _come by to check if you're in your room and if you're not I _will _hunt you down and give you a plethora of hypos until you can't see straight!"

"Isn't that considered malpractice, Bones?" Jim chuckled as he painfully swung his legs over the biobed.

"With your track record, Jim, the Federation wouldn't even bat an eye."

Jim didn't understand how McCoy had even made it into Starfleet with his sarcastic, snarky, 'won't-take-shit-from-anyone' attitude. But he was thankful; if it weren't for him he wouldn't be captain of the _Enterprise. _Jim supposed he could take a few years of his friend's hypo abuse and contemptuous remarks. He couldn't deny that he didn't enjoy tormenting him either.

Jim stumbled along the hallway, a massive amount of stinging pain was coursing up his leg and each step was agony. The throbbing in his head was still present and brought on dizzy spells but the ringing in his ear had finally dulled to the point where he could hardly hear it, though of course, all sound he heard from that ear sounded muffled.

He had promised Bones he'd go straight to his quarters, but decided to take a detour instead. He hadn't received any updates and it was driving him mad, itching to know if Spock and the Bridge had found any remnants of the alien ship left behind. The people of _Cestus III_ deserved to have justice; these beings had to be caught. He had almost been sure it was the work of Klingons but the signature of the attack wasn't quite right.

Stumbling into the Turbolift, he pressed the button for the Bridge and leaned heavily against the wall, trying to steady himself on his uninjured leg. He took deep steady breaths; his body trembled as it tried to recover from the damage it was dealt. But Jim Kirk wasn't one to give in no matter how battered and broken his body was; he had a mission to complete. Bones was going to have his head for this.

The lifts doors swished open with a hiss and he watched as several heads whirled around in unison to stare at him. It was almost overwhelming, but he fought through the awkward tension and hobbled onto the Bridge. Instantly Spock appeared beside him and caused him to jump and sway slightly from the pressure he had put onto his leg. Spock quickly placed a firm grip on his elbow, steadying him.

"Captain, you are not at optimal health and are not required to return to duty at this time. I insist you return to Sickbay until you have made a full recovery."

Jim waved him off, pulling his arm from Spock's grasp.

"Bones released me, I was just checking in. What's the current status on the alien vessel, Mr. Spock?" He raised his eyebrows curiously and he could have sworn that Spock's shoulders slouched slightly in defeat.

"The scanners have detected remnants of antimatter from the ship in question two-point-four hours ago and we are currently in pursuit."

"Do you know if it's Klingon?"

"Negative, Captain. We have not reached a final conclusion."

"I see." Jim said, limping to stand by his chair, feeling the eyes of the crew members fixed on his back. It made him nervous; they acted like he was going to drop dead at any moment.

"Captain?"

It felt like the world had slowed and his brain had shut off, the room spun and his knees buckled and the floor was suddenly rushing up to meet him. He squeezed his eyes shut waiting for impact, but it never came. Two strong hands gripped his arms, pulling him back to his feet. He could feel a burning heat solid against his back; warm breaths tickled the back of his neck that sent shivers down his spine.

"We must return you to your quarters, Captain. You are in need of rest."

_Not this again. How can I rest when I've got a million things on my mind? Like how I never realized how good it feels to have you so close to me, and the look in your eyes as you leaned in close while we were on the lift. You gave me a Vulcan kiss as I died, what did that mean? I need to know how you feel!_

"I'm fine, Spock." He murmured, but Spock refused to release him.

"As I have observed your condition since you have arrived, I have concluded that you are not 'fine' and need to be attended to. And if you refuse my offer to aid you to your quarters, I will be forced to call upon the Doctor's assistance."

Jim let out a breathy laugh.

_Damn clever Vulcan._

"That's playing dirty, but fine. You can let go of me now, I can walk on my own."

Spock hesitated for a moment before finally releasing Jim's arms. Jim thanked the Gods that his balance had returned and he pivoted and hobbled slowly back to the lift, still feeling the weight of the room on his back. He was just thankful that McCoy hadn't been involved; he shuddered at the thought of what the man would've done to him.

"Mr. Sulu, you have the _Conn._ Inform me immediately of any changes." He heard Spock speak behind him.

"Aye, Sir."

Jim entered the lift and once again felt the awkward tension as Spock stood beside him in silence. The Vulcan stood closer this time, watching him from the corner of his eyes, prepared to assist him if necessary. Having Spock hover over him felt strange, he had never been this attentive to Jim before. The only other time Jim could recall him being plastered at his side was after Khan, fussing over him like a mother hen. It began to irritate him to the point that he attempted to order the Vulcan away but Spock quickly retorted with, "We are currently not aboard the _Enterprise._ There are no repercussions for me to attend to your wellbeing."

Meaning "you aren't getting rid of me that easy".

Jim huffed, he was confused. Maybe he was overthinking everything and Spock really didn't care for him that way. Maybe Spock hadn't reminded him of his confession for Jim's dignity; he had been seconds from death after all. And what about Uhura? They still seemed to be together and it appeared that he wasn't going to be leaving the relationship any time soon. Jim felt a small bit of curiosity as to why Spock hadn't informed Uhura of his drunken kiss, was that also to save Jim's dignity?

His head hurt and he needed a drink.

Relief poured over him as the doors hissed open, allowing him to flee from the small uncomfortable space. He felt the familiar shadow at his back as he limped down the hall and reached his room. Keying in his code, he was almost grateful to be stepping into his quarters, he felt tired. He had been positive that Spock would've left him to rest but was shocked to find him entering behind him.

"Uh, Spock?"

"Captain, although I am aware that these are not the proper circumstances to discuss the subject, I believe that this matter needs to be addressed."

Jim's heart shot up into his throat, it pounded heavily in his head making the throbbing into a dense ache.

"Alright." He almost whispered, glancing away, hobbling to the desk, nearly falling onto his chair. He gestured to the adjacent chair across the table and watched as Spock fluently strode over to it and sat, his eyes blazing into Jim's causing him to swallow hard. He didn't know what the Vulcan was going to tell him and he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to discuss any of it yet. He cleared his throat, "Shoot."

Spock arched his eyebrow curiously and he fought back the urge to smile.

"You know what I mean, Spock. Start, begin, commence? Really, I've got plenty of these and could go on."

Spock nodded but didn't glance away making Jim want to squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

"I believe it is not me who should begin, Captain."

Jim huffed in frustration.

"Jim! God, Spock, when are you going to start calling me by my name? I think I've told you a billion times to do it by now."

"One hundred and eighty-seven to be precise." If Jim didn't know better, Spock almost seemed amused.

He scrubbed his face viciously.

"Fine, but shouldn't that give you a slight indication to do so?"

"I apologize if I have upset you while refraining from the use of your name. I found it unprofessional to address you so informally whilst you are my superior officer."

Jim sighed heavily.

"Well, I'm not on duty; you can call me by my name now."

"I will be inclined to do so, Jim."

There it was; the unusual feeling again. There was something in the way Spock said it that made Jim's stomach clench and his heart race. Those dark eyes were fixated on him, waiting for him to start the conversation. Where was he supposed to start?

"I-I want to apologize for the other night. I didn't meant to, you know, kiss you. I respect your and Uhura's relationship and I know I shouldn't have done that." He felt the heat creeping back up into his face, was he really sitting here talking about kissing with Spock?

"To be fair, Jim, you were not in a right state of mind when you performed the action."

Did he just give Jim an excuse? Jim realized that he wasn't exactly acting like the kiss had completely disgusted or offended him.

"Uh, yeah, but still…" He trailed off; he was at a loss for words. The heat in his cheeks burned angrily, he knew he couldn't hide the blush from Spock. He glanced down from the Vulcan's gaze and stared intently at the desk. He didn't want to ask the next question, it was ridiculous and he wanted to avoid it all together but it slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Did you try to kiss me in the lift?" It came out in a strained whisper and panic slammed into him after the words left his lips. What was he doing? At this rate he was going to scare the Vulcan off. Spock was his friend and here he was apologizing for kissing him and asking him if he had any romantic inclination toward him as well.

There was a thick silence to the room and he didn't dare glance up. He knew Spock was staring at him, but he didn't have the courage to meet his eyes. All time seemed to freeze and the anxiety of waiting for Spock's response made Jim's body tense until every muscle ached. God, why had he asked it? No, he couldn't have just gone on with his life and pretend like it didn't happen, he had to bring it to attention.

There was a swish of cloth as Spock shifted from the chair. The panic raged through Jim's body.

_Oh God! I really did it this time. He'll never want to look at me again. I've ruined our friendship._

There was a sudden heat beside him and watched as a pale hand came into view. The hand cupped his face to gently turn his head toward Spock. His breath caught in his throat, there was something raw in the chocolate irises, something so deep that once again drew Jim in and captivated him. He placed his other hand onto the table as he leaned down to him until he was inches from Jim's face.

For a moment they stared at each other, unmoving. Spock's warm breath caressed Jim's skin; chills ran along his body at the sensation, Spock's hand still placed on his face.

"Spock?" It felt like de-ja-vu all over again. What was Spock doing?

"_Taluhk nash-veh k'dular isha, e'tum veh._" His voice was soft, something fleeted through his eyes.

"Wha—" But before Jim could finish a familiar chirp rang out in the air, and watched painfully as Spock pulled himself away again.

Spock pulled his communicator from his belt, flipping it open, "Spock here."

"Spock," Uhura's voice rang through the room, "We're closing in on the enemy ship."

"Thank you Lieutenant, I will be there shortly." His voice was back to its professional tone as he turned back to Jim, "I believe we are needed on the Bridge, Captain."

Jim nodded mutely, his breathing was ragged and his face burned red. He had to pull himself together and get back to work. That was going to prove to be quite a challenge.

* * *

**A/N: Taluhk nash-veh k'dular isha – I cherish thee also**

**E'tum veh – beautiful one**

**This chapter made my own heart pound in anxiousness. Jeez. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Jim was thankful for the ride in the lift, it allowed him time to compose himself, although not as much as he would've liked with Spock standing next to him. But he was now in the mindset of business, pushing the recent occurrence with his First Officer to the back of his mind to be saved for later. But at the thought of bringing the subject back up later made his heart pound, was it too late to sweep this under the rug and never talk about it again? He didn't think so.

"Spock?"

"Yes, Captain?" He asked but didn't look toward Jim, keeping his eyes firmly on the doors which caused irritation to flare up in Jim's body.

_Oh no, we're not doing this again!_

"Is it possible that the attack could have been issued by Romulans? It's too precise to be a Klingon attack and the fact that the vessel fled afterwards seems well planned."

"I have examined all data pertaining to the destruction of the planet's habitants and cannot deny that it is indeed possible, although the motive is yet to be determined." He said unflinchingly, eyes still pinpointed at the doors.

Jim huffed in frustration. Why was he doing this again? Why couldn't he look at him? Had he forgotten what had just occurred only moments ago? The doors swished open and he marched from the lift as best as he could, more of a limping march, but he was sure Spock understood the gesture of it. The enemy ship was close enough to see but not nearly close enough to observe the type with the naked eye.

"Mr. Spock, scan the ship." He looked over at the science station and saw Spock's back was turned to him.

"Yes, Captain."

He sighed before looking over to Uhura who was giving him a curious look, "Lieutenant Uhura, contact Starfleet and inform them that we are about to engage and apprehend the culprits responsible for _Cestus III _and will inform them at our earliest convenience."

"Yes, Captain." She gave him a worried stare before following through with her orders.

He plopped down in his chair, feeling exhausted, frustrated, and even angry at the conflicting events that recently occurred. The anger inside him bubbled to the surface, he couldn't stop it. Between Spock's baffling advances and having not arrived in time to save the habitants of _Cestus III _was starting to take a toll on him.

"Captain, the ship's scanners indicate that the vessel is neither Romulan nor Klingon." Spock's voice cut through the air. Jim's eyes shot over to him, his back was still turned. The anger that was bubbling was now beginning to boil in his veins. "They have currently increased their warp to factor six."

"Engines set to warp seven, Mr. Sulu." His tone was harsh and had felt moment of remorse as Sulu jerked slightly in alarm.

"Aye, Sir."

Jim clutched the armrests of his chair, his heart pounding. He no longer cared to capture the fiends; he wanted vengeance for those who perished. He wanted to release his confusion and anger on something and this was the perfect target. All consequences eluded him, his vision tunneled.

"Prepare phaser banks." He snapped and watched as several heads turned to him with concern. Jim ignored them.

"Captain, the enemy vessel has now increased their speed to warp factor eight." Spock said mildly.

"They know we're on to them." He growled under his breath. He didn't bother glancing over to Spock again; he didn't want to look at him. How dare he avoid him after what he did to him in his quarters! "Engines to warp factor nine!"

"Sir, if we continue with that speed it could overload the engines." Sulu said a hint of fear in his voice.

"I gave an order!" Jim snapped. "Warp factor nine, Mr. Sulu!"

He flinched in response, "Aye, Sir."

"Lock phasers on their vessel." He spat, his face was tinting red, his hands clutching the rests so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He needed to release his emotions, they were pent up and begging for freedom. He hadn't felt this angry since Pike died. The sweet song of revenge allured him and he wanted to partake in it.

"Aye, Sir?"

They were slowly catching up; the vessel was appearing larger on the screen. Only a few more moments and they would be within firing range.

"Captain, sensors report we're being scanned!" Uhura piped up, her gaze falling on him, heavy with concern.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"By the alien ship?"

"No, by the solar system up ahead."

Something felt wrong. Uneasiness crept through the anger, reducing the haze in his vision.

"Any interference or resistance?" The harshness in his voice faded, curiosity filling the void.

"No, Captain. Just scanning beams. It's on an unusual wave length." Her usual tough demeanor slipped away, a hint of fear underlining her tone. She was worried. What had they gotten into?

"Mr. Spock?" He cursed himself slightly; it was second nature to reach out to the Vulcan. He never felt like he could determine certain aspects of a situation without Spock's input.

"It would appear someone is curious about us." His eyes were trained on the equipment in front of him.

_Look at me!_ The voice from the back of his mind hissed and he shoved it away, trying to stay focus on the current danger.

"It doesn't appear hostile, Captain. The beams are just increasing in intensity at a steady rate." Uhura said, fingers pressed to the device in her ear.

"Captain!" Mr. Sulu's voice rang out, "The enemy vessel is slowing down!"

His head whipped around to the helmsman. "What?"

"They're currently slowing to warp five….four…two. Sir…it's stopped dead in space."

A palpable moment passed as Jim's mind processed the news.

"They may be turning to fight." Jim stated more to himself than anyone in particular.

"No, Sir. They're dead out there." Sulu said tentatively, glancing back to Jim with an expression he couldn't quite place.

Adrenaline coursed through Jim, his anger rising again. His need to take revenge seeped back into his mind, vision tunneling on the helpless ship. Feeling like the Gods themselves were handing him this opportunity as a blessing.

"Then we've got them!" He shouted, rising from the chair, "Go to red alert, prepare to fire phaser banks!" He could hear the thrill in his voice, the pounding in his head aching from the increase of his heart rate. In this moment he didn't care that he felt a weighted stare on him, he didn't care that his emotions were breaking free.

The ship abruptly jerked without warning, sending him flying forward onto the floor. The lights dimmed and the ship moaned in protest. His anger slipped from him completely, fear swelling up inside him as the ship rocked again, causing him to roll onto his injured leg, crying out slightly from the pain.

"Sir, we're slowing down! Warp five…four…three…one. Captain, we've stopped." He heard Sulu as he struggled to push himself from the floor. He reached for the chair to help, easing back into it, trying to take a few deep breaths as his heart pounded achingly in his chest.

"What happened?" He huffed, staring at the enemy ship on the screen, a small stretch of space separating them.

"We are being held in place, Captain." Spock's confused and curious voice floated through the air.

"Tractor beam?" Jim asked, not daring to glance over to the Vulcan.

"Negative. It is an unidentifiable power emanating from the solar system the Lieutenant had stated previously."

"That's impossible." Jim nearly whispered.

The screen before them blackened casting the dim room into darkness. A silence washed over the Bridge, ragged breaths echoed around Jim as he stayed rooted to his seat. He couldn't see anything or anyone, all power had been cut. Panic began to rise inside him, his breathing became short and quick, could feel sweat forming on his brow. It was happening again; he had no control, the sense of his impending demise lurking in the depths of his mind. He couldn't think, the fear overtaking him, a cold sensation tingled over his skin and his body shivered. A pressure formed on his chest, it steadily intensified causing the panic raging inside his body to escalate until his head spun from it.

_I can't breathe!_

"Captain!" Two hands gently touched his shoulders; he could feel their heat through the cloth of his uniform. "Take deep slow breaths, you are hyperventilating." He had forgotten that Vulcans had a keener night vision than Humans. There was a sudden heat by his face and he jumped slightly in alarm. "Calm, Jim. I am here." Spock's soothing voice whispered into his ear.

The panic ebbed; his body trembled as he inhaled a shaky deep breath and slowly exhaled. Concentrating on the even breaths of Spock beside him, could feel the warmth of his breath still lingering on his face. He swallowed the lump in his throat, willing his heart to slow, feeling dizzy as his body calmed.

"Captain James Kirk." A booming voice echoed through the Bridge, his heart thudding hard again at the sound, causing Spock's hands to clench tighter on his shoulders. He looked around the pitch black room frantically.

"I am James Kirk." His voice cracked at the end and he clenched his jaw in frustration. He had to calm down. He was the captain and needed to start acting like it. He'd face worse with Khan, he had died. He wasn't dead yet, not yet.

"James Kirk, we are the Metrons. You have been closely observed along with the other participating vessel and have been concluded to have hostile tendencies and have full intentions to act upon them. This is not permissible."

"Are you responsible for stalling my ship?" He demanded weakly.

"We are. We cannot allow you to continue on your course of destruction. However, we understand that between both of your races, in order to achieve peace, you must be fulfilled with this violent tendency. Therefore, we have created a suitable planet for you and the captain of the Gorn ship that you are currently in pursuit with to be transported to and end your dispute in accordance with your desire. You will have no contact with your ship until a winner has been declared."

Jim swallowed hard.

"I assure you; we come in peace and mean no harm towards any of your kind." He attempted to plea, hoping they would listen to him.

"There will be no discussion. The winner will be released back to their ship and be set free with no harm. The loser will die along with the crewmen aboard their ship. It has been decided."

Suddenly a tingling sensation erupted over Jim, a small swirling of lights started to engulf him.

"Captain!" Was the last thing he heard before the light dissipated and found himself standing on solid ground, a blue sky above him that resembled the one from earth with rock formations surrounded him. Completely rural and reminded him of his home in Iowa.

His heart stopped at the creature who materialized before him a moment after he had arrived. It was giant lizard with beady eyes, sharp fangs protruded from its mouth and it stood straight as though it were human. It hissed violently at him, sharp claws glistening in the light.

The booming voice echoed off the rock formations around them, causing his breath to hitch in his chest, "The winner will be claimed by the loser's demise. You may begin."

* * *

**A/N: For those TOS fans, I really hope you saw this coming. Since this is an alternate universe, events do remain constant but differ in the way they are done. And the most epic fight begins in the next chapter! Thanks for reading and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: warning for brutality and a little bit dark. Other than that, enjoy the action.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"_The winner will be claimed by the loser's demise. You may begin."_

"What? You can't be serious!" He shouted at the sky. How was he supposed to fight this creature with a useless leg, pounding head, and a weakened body? How was this at all a fair fight?

He had been too distracted with the sudden bombshell that was dropped on him to notice the Gorn moving with liquid speed, crashing into him and sending him sprawling backwards onto the ground. A grunt escaped him as the wind was forced from his lungs; the heavy body of the Gorn pressed down onto his injured leg, sending a spike of sharp pain ringing up his body. The world swam for a moment as he lied there dazed. The Gorn took the small advantage by sinking its sharp fangs deep into his shoulder with a sickening crunch.

A primeval, raging shrill rung through the air and it took a moment for Jim to realize that it had emanated from him. The Gorn's violently swished from side to side, driving its fangs deeper, ripping through tendons, grinding against bone. Jim's arm reached up, clawing at the creature's scaly face, piercing screams ripping from his lips that forced tears from his eyes.

The Gorn's claws pierced his abdomen, ripping the fragile flesh, warm liquid spilling from the wounds and soaking the gold tunic an angry red. Jim let out another painful cry that cut short abruptly in a strangled silence. His vision exploded in a whirl of color, the white-hot agony raging through every nerve, his mind locked on only the pain. He couldn't think, his mind enveloped in a haze, desperately trying to form a single word.

"S-Spock!" His voice strained painfully, he was too weak. He didn't know why he thought of the Vulcan, why he felt he needed him. He had been a part of countless bar fights; he had been assaulted by Khan. Why did he need him? Why was his face flashing through his mind?

The Gorn hissed. Jim could feel its jaw against his shoulder tilting slowly into a malicious grin as it pinned his body at his abdomen, the claws digging deeper into his flesh. He thrashed beneath him, he couldn't die this easily. Jim's self-preservation instinctively took over, his legs bent back until they were nestled between his body and the Gorn. Using the sudden surge of adrenaline, he bucked the Gorn's body from on top of him, sending him flying over Jim, landing hard onto its back.

Jim seized the opportunity to scramble to his feet. The adrenaline blocked out the majority of the pain and he knew the surge wouldn't last much longer. He acknowledged that he was in no condition to attack. He had to flee, formulate a plan of attack. The Gorn was flipping onto all fours, beady eyes flashing a pale red, saliva mixed with Jim's blood oozed from its jowls. He was steadily losing his opportunity for escape.

Turning on his heel, he ran. Ignoring how his leg screamed in protest, how the world seemed to ease in and out, feeling the burn of bile shooting up his throat. His heart roared in his ears, the ringing in his right ear had returned, piercing through his skull. Zooming in his concentration on a single focal point, knowing it was matter of life or death to reach it, to distance himself from the Gorn. Jim didn't know if the creature was trailing him, not daring himself to stop to check.

It felt like he had been running for an eternity when he reached the small foundation of rocks, his pace slowed as he realized the Gorn wasn't behind him. He stumbled into the solid rough texture, crying out as his injured shoulder rubbed against it, sending white spots dancing in his vision. The last string of adrenaline drained away, his knees buckled underneath him as a wave of pain erupted through his body. Jim slumped onto the ground, his breathing came in rasps. Grasping his abdomen, he felt the shredded skin, his hand coming away coated in bright red blood mixed with a thin layer of a slimy black substance.

_No._ His mind hissed. _This can't be._

Poison.

_That damn bastard has poison claws!_

He slumped backward until his back hit the rock wall, hissing and clenching his jaw as a burning pain erupted from his shoulder. It took a moment for his mind to register that the creature had bitten through bone; his left arm hung with dead weight beside him, numb. His face dripped with sweat and shivered as a small breeze eased its way through the small crevice.

_What am I supposed to do? _His mind screamed. _I'm either going to die from the poison or bleed to death._ His right hand balled tightly into a fist._ Dammit! I can't lose! My ship, my crew, Spock…_

Jim acknowledged he had to staunch the bleeding, blood loss usually took time but his gashes were deep and he was sure the creature had punctured internal organs. He gripped the hem of his golden tunic, gingerly trying to pull it over his head and injured shoulder with one hand. Once he had accomplished the small victory, he clumsily pulled the shirt around his midsection, glancing around frantically for an object to help bind it. Relief filled him as his gaze fell upon a sturdy stick jutting out from underneath the rock beside him and jerked it free, twining it in the sleeves of his uniform. He turned the stick in his hand, making the material tighten until his stomach protested, a strangled sob breaking from his lips.

His shoulder bled steadily but he knew he couldn't tie cloth around it one handed. Through his hazy vision, he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. There were rocks, sand, trees but nothing he could use to aid him. Jim was no match for the Gorn's strength in a hand-to-hand combat and he cursed his Human fragility. He felt for his phaser and was not surprised that it was missing.

"Spock." He whispered weakly, "What am I supposed to do? I—" He was interrupted as he hacked violently, a copper flavor filling his mouth, streams of crimson dribbled down his chin.

He lied against the rock boneless, his breathing labored. He had lost all sense of time, his eyelids felt heavy, nausea burnt at the back of his throat.

"Captain Kirk." A hissed voice filled the air and he winced at its sinister ring. He glanced around, attempting to locate the voice. "I know you are dying, Captain."

He panted, clenching his eyes shut.

"I can end your suffering." The voice cooed, the sound was closer, "I will find you, I will tear the flesh from your throat and watch as the lights leave your eyes. You cannot hide long; your blood will lead me to you."

He groaned; he knew he had to keep moving. If he stayed put he was as sure as dead. Shifting his body from the wall, he stifled the scream that was building in his chest. Whimpering slightly as he used the wall to ease himself up. A popping sensation stung at his abdomen, feeling like knives were digging into the flesh, his legs shook and he swayed. A heat flared over him and he shivered as he stumbled forward from the crevice and back out into the fray.

_Jim._

His head whipped around at the sudden sound of his name. He could've sworn it sounded like…

No, he had to be hallucinating.

_A trap, Jim!_

"What?" He asked out loud before shaking his head. It had to be the mixture of the blood loss and the poison, he was hearing voices.

Jim leaned heavily against the rocks as he lugged his body forward. It was too much effort; his body couldn't take much more exertion.

"Captain." The chilling voice sounded behind him and he turned, his foot stepping on loose gravel, sending him tumbling down a small hill. Each impact jerked a whimper from him until he was suddenly tangled in what appeared to be a net made from plants, weaved tightly to create a secure bond.

Jim kicked his legs, using his uninjured arm to try and push the net from him but failed. Gripping the net tightly in his hand, he pulled it hard and watched in horror as a boulder slid from a ledge above him, crashing down onto his right leg. Another strained cry rang through the air. The white spots in his vision had darkened.

"You are mine, Captain." The Gorn crouched inches from him, staring down into his eyes with murderous intent.

"Why?" His voice was barely above a whisper, "What have we done to you?"

The Gorn pushed the boulder from his leg, removing the net from him. Jim understood the Gorn believed he was too weak to fight, too weak to fend him off. His hand slipped backward and felt a solid object beneath him, his eyes fixated on the lizard as it raised it claws, aiming to strike.

He was close to unconsciousness, fighting back the black rims around his vision. He had one shot, one chance to survive. He felt another surge of adrenaline, realizing this was the final moment, he lunged himself at the creature. It stunned the lizard for a moment, allowing Jim to send him sprawling to the ground, clutching the sharpened rock in his hand. He swung the object downward, about to smash it into the Gorn's skull when he stopped abruptly.

The Gorn's eyes bled steadily back to its original black. An expression fleeted across the alien face—fear. He was scared of him.

"I…won't kill…you." Jim struggled to speak, "It's…not right." He hissed through gritted teeth.

He was steadily losing the battle to stay conscious, his body slumping over the Gorn, the rock slipping from his grip. The world reeled and he found himself lying on his back, the black eating away at his vision. A face appeared above him, angelic and perfect.

"You have passed." The booming voice was faint, far away.

A hand reached out to him, inches from his face before the darkness tugged him blissfully into unconsciousness.

* * *

**A/N: Kept some things the same but wanted to make it different. Thanks for reading and please review! Will update soon!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Muffled sounds filled the empty void before a mixture of colors and shapes flooded his vision.

"Jim!" The voice echoed through a distant end of his tunneled hearing.

Something sharp was squeezing his arm, too much sensation, exploding the shapes into streams of light as he felt himself falling backwards. The darkness was taking him over once more, spilling into his eyes, the world eluding his grasp.

* * *

Pain.

An intense, aching, stinging pain rolling in waves through him, a distant whimper echoed around him. Consciousness slammed into him, forcing him from the blackened void, wrenching him into a blinding agony, imploding his head into a foggy haze. A burning flared over him, too hot, too intense.

Screaming, someone was screaming.

A blurred outline of a figure leaned in, something heavy pressed against him. The blue of his shirt was achingly bright, the face too close, sending a sharp pain through the front of his skull as he tried to concentrate on the image. Two dark points abstracted the white; they swam heavily in his vision.

"Spock?" A barely audible whisper echoed from somewhere, it sounded strangely like his voice.

The world rushed upwards and he could hear the muffled screams again. Who was screaming?

There was a gentle heat against his face, the only solid pressure his mind could comprehend. The pain was receding, the screaming stopped. Sudden warmth rushed through him, soothing the burning. He felt heavy as the sensation heaved him back into the peaceful darkness.

* * *

A dull blip sound pulled him forward, dragged him into a bright world with a snap, the loud noise rushing into his senses. Jim sucked in a deep breath before it caught in his throat, coughing through the pressure on his chest. He heard a swish of cloth beside him.

"Jim?"

He moaned in response.

"Jim, kid, can you hear me?" There was softness to his voice as he leaned his face into view. Lines of worry lay heavily on his brow, raw concern weighed heavy in his hazel eyes.

"Bones." His voice whined and he coughed, his throat burned, his mouth dry. "Bones," his voice was stronger, "I'm alive?"

Bones let out an exasperated huff.

"Do I look like an angel to you? You think Heaven would want your sorry ass loitering around, getting yourself in trouble?" He snapped, his voice wavering weakly at the end.

Jim gave him a half-hearted grin.

"It wouldn't be a party without me."

McCoy snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I see you're making a speedy recovery. Why the hell was I even worrying? Jim Kirk, the only man to gamble with death on a consistent basis and win." He groused as he began to gently check over his wounds.

"I try." His weak grin grew.

He snorted again, shaking his head in frustration before his eyes darkened with a raw emotion, becoming uncomfortably serious.

"Jim, you were dead! You heart stopped for several minutes, I had to revive you…" He choked back a sob, is hands trembling on Jim's shoulder. Bones closed his eyes, taking a small breath, his voice just barely above a whisper, "We thought we were going to lose you again."

Jim stared at his friend, silent. His mind was blank, the words eluding him. Bones shook his head, sighing heavily.

"I thought I was a nervous wreck…didn't think the hobgoblin was capable of _that_ reaction." He mumbled, eyes diverting away, unfocused.

"What?"

"Nothing, kid, it's nothing." He picked up a hypo, administering it into Jim's neck, making him hiss. "Big baby." He spat.

"Well, now that I know I'm not dying, I can leave right?"

Bones body stilled; a dark look crossing over his face causing an amused smile to stretch over Jim's face before he settled back against the bed, sighing.

"You should've seen the Gorn, Bones. It—"

"I saw it, Jim." Bones interjected, "We all saw it. The Metrons, they…let us watch."

Jim tore his gaze away from the doctor, swallowing hard. That meant they had seen the fight. They had seen him pitiful, weak. They had heard him crying out for Spock. No, worse, Spock had heard him, had seen his desperate need for him. Just like the last time he died. The blood in his face drained.

"Oh." Jim whispered.

Sensing Jim's distress, Bones squeezed his uninjured arm gently.

"You held your own well, kid. I don't think anyone could've done better."

Jim knew he said it to comfort him, but the words only cut into him more. How would this affect the morale of his crew, would they seem him differently? Where was Spock, was his raw need for the Vulcan too intense for him? Had he officially scared him off?

"Get some sleep." Bones interrupted his thoughts, watching his friend turn from the biobed and left the room, dimming the lights behind him.

* * *

Spock didn't come to see him. Days passed as he lied in Sickbay and the fact the Vulcan had not come to check on him angered him. He recalled telling him that he didn't need to be checked up on like a child but he didn't think the Vulcan would take it to heart. The Bridge crew had come on their downtimes to sit by him and entertain him, knowing that he despised Sickbay and McCoy's hyposprays. Most of the subjects were light-hearted and didn't bring up the fight between him and the Gorn. Even though the discussion of the Gorn's motive for attacking _Cestus III _would inevitably come up, he was always relieved that the subject wouldn't be pushed any further.

The damage was extensive and even though the bones had been regenerated in his shoulder, it still ached. The slashes in his abdomen were sore; he'd gasp and hiss with pain every time he would get up to walk around, taking him countless hours to finally walk without waddling. His crushed leg had also been regenerated and he thanked the Gods that Bones had remedied an antidote for the poison.

Jim sat on the edge of the biobed, slipping into his familiar uniform, tossing the retched Sickbay gown far away from him. Bones hadn't argued with Jim's desire to leave, telling him he was "too damn tired to play babysitter anymore". He still hadn't been cleared for duty and had been thoroughly chewed out by the doctor for going back to the Bridge in the first place after he had promised him he'd be in his quarters. When he promised this time that he'd go straight there, Bones laughed harshly, stating he wasn't an idiot and would find someone to escort him.

He eased himself from the bed, still aching but not enough to cripple him. He was about to turn to leave the room without his "escort" when a familiar voice rung out behind him, startling him.

"Captain, I have come to escort you to your quarters as requested by the Doctor."

The anger that simmered beneath the surface dangerously boiled to the top at the sound of his voice. He was the last person Jim wanted to see. In fact, he wasn't sure he wanted to see Spock at all. This confusing game they were playing was riding his nerves to the ground and he hated it.

"I see." He hissed through clenched teeth, keeping his back turned toward the Vulcan.

A familiar heat warmed his back, causing his heart to quicken.

"Do you require assistance?"

Jim said nothing, keeping his eyes set on the ground; he turned and brushed passed him. He was seething, body physically trembling from it as they walked from Sickbay. Spock followed silently behind him, he could feel the uncomfortable weighted stare, fighting the urge to turn and punch the man in the face.

Jim was on autopilot as they maneuvered through the ship, shocked when they were suddenly standing in front of his room. Angrily punching in his code, he marched inside, well aware that Spock followed after. Once he heard the doors hiss shut, he whirled around to face him, his face red with anger.

"What the hell is going on?" He shouted.

"I'm afraid I do not understand what you are referring to, Captain." He said mildly, folding his arms behind his back, eyebrow arched.

"Goddamn it, Spock! For the last time, call me Jim!" He took a few steps toward him, "And don't play dumb, you know very damn well what I'm talking about!"

"I do not understand the reasoning for your rage—"

"Why weren't you there?" He hissed as he took another step toward the Vulcan, entering his personal space, a shadowed memory of the last time he had done this to emotionally compromise him. Is that what he was trying to do now? "What are you doing? One minute you're attempting to kiss me and the next you can't be found!"

"You assume that my absence in Sickbay was a confirmation that I held no concern—"

"I don't have to _assume_ anything, Spock! Since I've confessed to you and died, you've been fucking with my head! When you didn't come to see me, I knew you really didn't care! But then how can you when you're a Vulcan, you don't _feel_!"

In a motion to fast for Jim to follow, he was suddenly lifted from his feet and slammed hard into the wall. Spock's pupils were blown; his eyebrows furrowed angrily, a snarl playing on his lips. Jim's anger faltered, a moment of fear blossoming within him. His heart pounded rapidly against his chest.

"Do not presume that I hold no emotions for you." His voice was low, the dark eyes blazing. "I have witnessed your demise, twice in which I was unable to protect you. It was not your confession that deterred me away from you, only these emotions that I cannot fathom when in your presence."

His breath hitched in his throat, what was he saying?

"Spock, wha—"

Spock cut him off as his lips roughly crashed into his, stimulating a muffled sound from the Human. Jim's eyes shot wide for a moment, shocked. Spock's lips were hot, a prickly heat that tingled on his lips. After a palpable moment, his eyes slid shut as he melted into the kiss, a hand balling into the Vulcan's uniform, the other winding its way through the strands of his hair, crushing his face into his. He tugged roughly at Spock's hair, stimulating a low growl from him that caused shivers to run along Jim's body.

Jim licked along Spock's bottom lip, asking permission to enter and the Vulcan complied. He wasn't as clumsy as Jim would've thought he'd be as their tongues caressed, exploring their mouths, teeth clashing as their heads turned to deepen it.

The Vulcan's iron grip kept him in the air as he pulled Jim away from the wall. Jim was only aware for a moment that they were moving before the kiss was broken, falling backward onto the softness of the bed. Spock stood above him; a raw, primeval, possessive stare emanating from dark eyes that made Jim's skin crawl.

A deep ache within him yearned for this, had wanted this for longer than he cared to admit. And from the look Spock was giving him, he was sure Spock couldn't deny that he was experiencing the same desire.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter will contain mature content (I will put *'s by the part since I understand a lot of people may feel uncomfortable with it). Thanks for reading and please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: *** = Mature Content. I will put them before and afterward. Most fics I've read have either been pretty dominant (which isn't too bad) or have lacked a certain…passion? It's been more like it's **_**just **_**sex and no romance…so I've tried for a happy medium. (This is the first official one I've ever done).**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

***** **Jim pushed himself up into a sitting position on the bed, his arms extending out to touch Spock's torso. The Vulcan growled lowly, a flicker of an emotion filled his dark eyes before fading quickly. Jim paused, his hands hovering centimeters from the Vulcan's shirt, tentatively searching his face for any sign of resistance. When Spock didn't object, his hands gently dug underneath the layers of his uniform, touching the heated soft skin underneath, initiating another deep sound from him. Jim kept his eyes fixated on Spock's as he slowly stood, his hands gliding upwards, feeling the lean muscle beneath his fingers. Spock's eyes followed him until he was standing from the bed, inches apart from him, his hands resting upon his chest.

Two hands suddenly gripped Jim's wrists, making him gasp in surprise. They squeezed his wrists together into one hand, yanking his hands away from his chest, roughly tugging the Human into him. Spock's free hand wound its way through the hair at the back of Jim's head and he winced as the Vulcan's hand pressed firmly onto his healing wound. He must have made a sound because Spock's eyes softened with concern for a moment, searching Jim's features.

"I'm fine." Jim whispered, his pulse hammering in his head, attempting to lean his face into Spock but the Vulcan's hand gripped his hair tighter, keeping him stationary.

"I…should not…" Spock whispered, his eyes scanning along the fullness of Jim's lips.

"Spock." He breathed and felt a small tremor run through the Vulcan's body.

Spock roughly released Jim's hair, shoving him back onto the bed. The Vulcan straddled him, Jim's arms still clutched tightly in his hand as he held them pinned above Jim's head. He captured the Human's lips again, the same crushing force as before that made Jim whimper softly. Jim's lower lip fell between the Vulcan's teeth and he bit down with a small pressure, Jim's mouth opened with a moan and allowed Spock's warm tongue inside. He could feel him explore his mouth hungrily, his free hand finding the hem of Jim's shirt, pushing the shirt upwards, exposing his flesh.

The kiss grew in intensity; Jim's breaths were labored as their lips broke apart for a moment for Spock to pull the shirt over Jim's head, then once again indulging in the kiss. Jim felt a pang of jealousy that he couldn't rip Spock's shirt from him, longing to run his hands along the lean Vulcan body. He attempted to free his hands but Spock's grip tightened until he let out another gasp.

Spock grinned and whispered against his lips, "Be still, Jim." Spock softly spoke his name, brushing his lips gently over Jim's, causing a pleasurable tremor to slither its way up the Human's back.

"I want you." Jim whimpered, nipping at the Vulcan's lower lip.

The half-lidded dark eyes flittered up to meet Jim's at the comment, they blazed into his, fleeting thoughts flickering in his pupils. His free hand reached up to Jim's face, tracing down along his jawline, Spock's fingertips were like a gentle flame against his skin and he shuddered. The fingers continued to trace down his neck, his chest, then playfully lingered at the crease of his pants.

Spock leaned away from Jim's face, licking and nibbling his ear, "_T'nash-veh e'tum veh_."

The Vulcan's hand slipped beneath the crease, stroking gingerly along the shaft. Jim moaned, arching his back, pressing himself harder against the heated pressure, rocking his hips in an attempt for a rhythm. Spock kissed his neck softly before biting hard, increasing the speed of his strokes until Jim was writhing with pleasure underneath him.

_God, Spock, stop or I'm going to…I want you to take all of me, make me yours! _His mind screamed.

Suddenly Jim's wrists were released and his hands clawed at the Vulcan's shirt, tugging it up to his shoulders causing Spock to free Jim's pulsing groin in order for the shirt to slide over his head. Jim chucked it away from them, his hand burying back into Spock's hair, his other on the side of his face, forcing him down until their lips connected again. Jim's blood roared in his ears, his body trembling with energy, teetering on the edge of emotional and physical pleasure. The feel of Spock's heated skin against his sent chills down his body, attacking the Vulcan's mouth, forcing entry in to explore.

Jim could feel Spock's hand grip the his pants and in one quick motion, the Vulcan yanked them off, breaking the kiss as Jim's lower body landed back onto the bed. A small lustful grin grew on his face as he reached for Spock's but found he wasn't as smooth as the Vulcan could be, he clumsily pulled them off, watching an amused expression cross Spock's face. Jim stared into the dark eyes, hips thrusting upward to grind against Spock's groin and felt a rush of satisfaction as Spock's eyebrows knitted together, eyes closing at the sudden sensation, his mouth opening slightly.

Spock's hips slid down, wriggling in-between Jim's thighs, the tip teasing at the opening. The Vulcan stared possessively as he slid in slowly without any preparation. An agonizing pain shot through Jim's body, arching his back, breaths came out raspy until he could feel Spock completely inside him. The pain was intense but it sent another wave of pleasure through him, his groin throbbing from the sensation. His hands wrapped around Spock's shoulder, pulling him down toward him as the Vulcan moved his hips slowly back before thrusting hard into Jim, lips curling in a smile as Jim cried out. Spock nuzzled his head into the crook of Jim's neck, his hand balling into the Jim's hair as his rhythm sped up.

Jim felt a warmth flood through him, his eyes rolling to back of his head with each powerful thrust, raising his hips to aid the Vulcan, welcoming him deeper. It felt so right. Jim had never felt so connected to someone like this before, like they were two bodies melting into one. His hands felt the muscles moving beneath the skin of Spock's back, and he dug his fingernails into the flesh as he felt a blossom of something building in his groin. Jim's breathing quickened, he could feel the pressure climbing, so close to the top.

_I love you, Spock. God, I love you!_

He let out a strangled cry as his body released, he could feel the warm liquid settle onto his stomach, every nerve tingled, his eyes squeezing shut, taking in the rolling tides of the orgasm. Above him he felt the strong tremble of Spock, could hear him gasp loudly as he released his control, slamming his hips into Jim one last time before collapsing against him, his mouth by Jim's ear breathing heavily. *******

Spock's hand gently caressed the side of Jim's face, "_Ashayam_." He whispered softly into Jim's ear as they waited for their bodies to descend from the heavenly euphoria brought on by their love making. Spock lay on his side and Jim rolled over, snuggling close into the heat of his body, burying his face against the Vulcan's chest, wrapping his arms around him. His heart fluttered as Spock's arm draped over him protectively.

"What's that mean?" Jim's voice cracked; his throat was dry.

The Vulcan's head leaned down, placing a soft kiss against Jim's temple, "Beloved." He said softly.

Jim's heart pounded against his chest, a heat rising in his face.

"Oh." He wanted to talk, they hadn't really talked about this, but it was clear now. He was in love with Spock; he probably always had been but had stored it away out of fear. He felt a surge of grogginess hit him as the last bit of adrenaline ebbed away; Spock's warm body comfortably spooned around him. Deciding not to ruin this moment, he snuggled him closer, allowing his heavy eyes to shut, taking in the scent of him before drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Jim didn't know how long he had been sleeping, but he awoke to a strange noise. He pulled himself from the warmth of dreamland, peeking open his eyes to see Spock standing, quietly slipping on his uniform, eyes focused away from Jim. He propped himself up on his elbow, watching him cautiously. He recognized the expression on the Vulcan's face; Jim had had that expression dozens of times with one night stands. The look of having made an enormous mistake, afraid that someone would find out. His stomach dropped.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan paused, staying silent. Jim slipped from the bed, pulling out a pair of pajama pants from the bedside drawer, trembling as he quickly put them on. He didn't feel comfortable being nude anymore. Jim sat back down on the bed to hide the shaking in his legs, staring at Spock who stood eerily still, his brow furrowing.

"Spock…what's wrong?" Jim tentatively asked, fearing the gut feeling he was experiencing was about to come true.

"I apologize for the impulsive actions that I bestowed upon you last night, and I must convey my deepest sincerities that this occurrence must never be repeated."

Jim was suddenly on his feet, a red haze tinting his vision.

"What? You've got to be kidding!"

Spock closed his eyes, his arms folding behind his back as he took in a small breath.

"I am currently committed to Miss Uhura and have violated the sanctity of our relationship. I realize that I am at fault for allowing the situation to escalate beyond the forbidden boundaries, and I know in retribution for my actions, I must abandon any more thoughts of promiscuous behavior."

Jim scoffed at him, his mouth hung agape at his words.

"So, that's all this was?" Jim's tone was dark, "'Promiscuous behavior', a 'mistake'?" Jim growled, "You're just going to make love to me, then go back to her and pretend this never happened? All I'm going to be is a goddamn notch in your belt?"

"Jim, I am sor—"

"Get out!" Jim screamed, his blood boiling. "Get out before I throw you out!" Tears stung at his eyes. In a small way, he felt that this was karma for all the women he had done this too. How foolish he had been to allow himself to open up, to trust.

Spock curtly nodded, turning towards the doors of Jim's quarters and stopped before he reached them. A soft voice that wasn't Jim's floated in his mind.

_Forgive me, ashayam. _

Then Spock was gone, taking Jim's heart with him.

* * *

**A/N: Before I get yelled at, remember the summary of the story! Here's the big turning point, now we'll see if Jim can get him back! Thanks for reading and please review!**

**_T'nash-veh e'tum veh_ - My Beautiful one  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'd just like to say thank you so much for 50+ followers! I really had little confidence this story would turn out well, and I thank you so much for all your support!**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Jim stood dumbfounded, shocked. He couldn't decide which emotion to feel: fear, sadness, anger? They roared through him, fighting each other, trying to rise above to allow him to feel something, anything. Is this what heartbreak felt like? So deep and intense that the pain would cause his body to become so indescribably numb. Images bombarded his mind of Spock's face, his body above Jim's, the softness of his lips, the sweet whisper of his voice, his scent, the way he tasted on his tongue, his body fitting inside him so perfectly he could have sworn the Vulcan was made for him.

_I need a drink._

He stumbled toward the cabinet where he stored the Romulan Ale that Bones had given to him for his birthday, telling him to celebrate the second chance he'd been given. Jim made sure to save it for a rainy day, and today was especially pouring. He didn't care that he had to be debriefed by the Admiral in a few hours, he didn't care that he'd probably wind up in Sickbay again. He wanted this feeling to be snuffed out and quickly.

His hand shook as he poured his first glass, tossing it back into his mouth, hissing from the familiar burn at the back of his throat. Then he felt it, one of the emotions that had been battling finally gaining control. It slammed into him, a rush of pure rage. The glass in his hand was flung across the room, smashing into small fragments and scattered on the floor. Taking another large swig from the bottle, he approached the bed, memories of the night before flashing before him. He reached down, gripping the sheets and tore them away, flinging them angrily at the door.

"Fuck him!" He screamed, clawing at the pillows, material spraying everywhere. He tossed them to the floor before hoisting the mattress up, flipping it off the frame, landing against the bedside table, causing it to fall to its side with a loud crash.

Surveying the room, he focused on another item he could assault, tipping the bottle back into his mouth as he blindly walked toward his desk, gulping down the burning liquid until tears stung his eyes. The ale was incredibly strong to his human body, it coursed through him quickly, the room began to swim. He picked up the chair Spock had been seated in before the battle, scrutinizing it before throwing it savagely against the adjoining bathroom door.

_I don't need him! I don't need anyone! I'm James T. Kirk! I'm the lone fucking wolf! _

Jim's foot rested on the side of the table before adding enough pressure for it to tumble sideways, the computer smashed into pieces on the floor. He laughed bitterly as the cool bottle found his lips again, indulging in its sweet fiery nectar, draining it dry. It felt good to drink; it felt good to smash things, but not good enough. It wasn't enough to satisfy him.

"Goddamn you, Spock!" The rush of the rage ebbed, allowing the second emotion to take its place. He fell against the wall, knees weakening as a strangled sob escaped him, sliding to the floor as his vision blurred. His hands buried roughly into his hair, tugging it until he felt pain, tears streamed steadily down his face. Despair washed over him, the thought that he would love him and never receive it back ate him inside.

"_I have not been avoiding you because you have angered me."_

"_Jim, I am here."_

"_Do not presume that I hold no emotions for you."_

"_I could not protect you."_

"_Forgive me, ashayam."_

He let out a strangled cry as more hot tears burned down his face. His heart clenched and his stomach curled in knots. The room was spinning and he had nothing solid to grab onto, the memories of Spock flooding him, drowning him.

"_I do not know, right now I am failing."_

"_Because you are my friend."_

"_You do not recall what you had said to me?"_

"_Jim, I am sorry."_

Fear overwhelmed the despair, fear that he would lose Spock completely. Why was he so afraid of this? Why was the thought of being without him so terrifying? Did he really depend on him that much? Did he really let him inside; trust him with every fiber of his being? Yes he did and he hated it. He hated that he had fallen for the pointy-eared bastard. He hated that he needed him, that the thought of him being with anyone else hurt him to his core. Jim had to fight for him, there had to be a way. He wouldn't have done what he did with Jim if he truly loved Uhura. He wouldn't look at Jim the way he did if he didn't feel the same.

In a blurred daze, he scrambled to his feet, the world tilting as he stumbled to the door. A weight pressed heavily against his chest making it difficult to breathe. Jim felt a wave of heat flare up his body as beads of sweat trailed down his face. It took great effort to reach the Vulcan's quarters, having little thought to whether Spock would be inside, he rapped against the door furiously.

"Spock, open the damn door!" His words slurred and his voice was a few octaves too high. "I know you're in there, don't you fucking hide from me!"

There was no answer and he crumbled against it, sliding down onto his knees, defeated. He felt tired; the world appeared to be slipping from him. For a brief moment he thought he heard his name before strong arms scooped him up, his head flopping onto the man's chest. The world a mix of colors as he was hit by an invisible force of heat too intense for him to bear, he whimpered. He felt himself fall onto something soft before the world was sucked into a void of black.

* * *

"Hey, wake up!"

Jim moaned, slapping at the hands that were prodding his face.

"Dammit, I'm too old for this shit. Get your ass up now!"

Ice cold liquid suddenly enveloped his face and he let out a loud yelp in surprise.

"What the hell?" He screamed as the icy water wrenched him into consciousness. "What the hell are you doing?" Jim sat up in the bed, his head pounded and his body ached in protest.

"What the hell am I doing?" Bones barked, "I'm not the one getting drunk and trashing my room to hell, then crashing in my First Officer's quarters! Not to mention missing the debriefing with Admiral Bullock!"

"What?" Jim gawked, scanning the room and realizing that he was indeed in Spock's quarters, lying in his bed. "Where is he?"

"Spock? That's all you got from that? Are you that daft? Do you not realize how much shit you're in? Jim, have you lost your goddamn mind?" Bones' face was tinted red as he scolded him. "The Admiral is livid and demanding a psych evaluation on you!"

"What for?" Jim snapped and McCoy snorted angrily.

"Dammit, Jim, I don't know, maybe for the fact you nearly died again and just spent the night destroying your room!"

"That's got nothing to do with the Gorn!"

Bones huffed in frustration.

"Then what is it?"

Jim clammed up. How could he tell him? And why was he in Spock's quarters after the Vulcan had clearly stated that there would be nothing further between them?

"Jim." McCoy's voice softened and placed his hand gently on Jim's shoulder. "You have to tell me. They're already worried that you might be having side effects from Khan's blood. They think you might be compromised." He whispered.

Jim's heart skipped a beat at the comment. He had to tell him, it was essential. He didn't want to lose the _Enterprise_, not when he had sacrificed so much. He could trust Bones, he always could.

"Bones," he sucked in a shaky breath, "I…I'm in love."

A silence fell between them for a palpable moment.

"God, kid, please don't tell me you're about to confess a secret love for me."

"God no!" Jim scoffed and McCoy's face smoothed in relief.

"Thank God, 'cause kid, you may be prince charming but I'm no Cinderella."

A laugh burst from Jim, he doubled over, gasping for breath. Even with the extreme nausea he was feeling, he laughed until his sides ached.

"I personally think the blue dress would suit you Bones, it'd match your eyes." Jim grinned as Bones pinched his nose in irritation and sighed.

"Shut up, Jim."

Jim's grin widened.

"Let's get down to Sickbay for the test. You can tell me all about your new epiphany on life there." Bones moved from the bed, shuffling towards the doors without glancing behind him to see if Jim was following.

"Yeah…" His face fell, looking around Spock's quarters as he slipped from the bed. Spock had brought him here to sleep. Spock still cared about him, right? Was it possible to win him back when he was never his to begin with?

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: For those who didn't see the update on the first chapter, this story is a sort of sequel to my fanfic "Don't Forget Me". It wasn't at first, but the way that fanfic is going fits quite well with this one, so why not? **

**Also, I'm not a huge fan of the new Uhura, but I'd never insult her character. I just don't like the Spock/Uhura pairing thus why I'm writing Spock/Kirk. Just wanted to put that out there. **

* * *

**Chapter 10**

"Well, everything looks normal." Bones mumbled, "Even your physical was flawless, must be the damn super blood."

Jim beamed, hoping down from the biobed with a cocky grin plastered over his face. He was slightly pale, hair spiking at different angles, clothes in disarray and he still felt confident.

"See? Nothing to worry about, I'm sure the Admiral will get off my back now."

"Hold on, kid. You still need to tell me what caused the breakdown to begin with. I have to give him something other than, 'Jim Kirk was just being a drunken moron'." Bones crossed his arms over his chest, a small scowl on his face. "Now, tell me about this new found 'love'?"

Jim sighed heavily, diverting his eyes away.

"It's not really new. It's been there for a long time, I just wasn't aware of it." He said cryptically, hearing a frustrated sigh.

"I'm a doctor not a therapist, Jim. Get to the point."

Jim glanced back at him, McCoy's eyebrows were raised in irritation.

"I'm in love…with someone aboard the _Enterprise_." He said softly.

"Yeah, kind of figured that one out, care to enlighten me to who this is?" Bones grumbled, his eyes boring into Jim, making him shift uncomfortably.

For a palpable moment he debated whether he should say it. He didn't really have to go into explicit detail and Bones could tell the Admiral that he was just love sick and he'd get over it. But he knew that Bones wouldn't leak the information. Jim needed someone to lean on and Bones was the best bet. He swallowed hard, drawing in a shaky breath.

"Spock." He whispered as he dropped his eyes to stare at the floor, a heat creeping up his face.

There was a small gasp before a harsh laugh echoed through the room.

"What? The hobgoblin? Jim, you've got to be kidding me!"

Jim's eyes shot up, he could feel the anger course through him. His eyes narrowed, hands clenching into tight fists. The doctor's laughter stopped abruptly, his mouth hung slightly agape.

"Whoa, easy. I get it, you were serious." Bones put his hands up defensively. He approached Jim tentatively, his hand gripping his arm. "When did this come about?"

Jim let out a long breath, easing himself into a calm state.

"Recently." He stated, "But like I said, I had just realized it. It's been there for a while." His voice sounded hollow, empty. Memories of Spock surfacing at the forefront of his mind and he couldn't evade them.

"Jim, he's with Uhura. I don't think he feels—"

"That's the thing, Bones! He _does_! He told me in the only way he _could_ tell me. He tried to kiss me several times until last night when we made love and—"

"Whoa! Stop right there!" Bones released his grip on Jim's arm, waving his hands in front of him as though they were an invisible shield to deflect Jim's words. "I really didn't need to know_ that_ much!" He shook his head, possibly trying to erase the image Jim had placed into his mind. "Jim," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "He's your First Officer. He's in a relationship with Uhura. If this isn't the biggest form of taboo out there, I don't know what is!"

"I wasn't the one who started it last night, Spock—"

"Jim! Please, stop talking!" McCoy's face was starting to tint a slight red from embarrassment. "I don't care who started what. Don't you think this is a bit too risky? This sort of thing could cost you your job…and if Uhura find outs, you're as good as dead!" His eyes bugged out a little, arms flailing about before him.

Jim fell silent for a moment, steadying his breathing.

"Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I fucking_ know_ what the consequences could be?" His voice was so low and serious it nearly scared him to listen to his own words. "There's something there…something stronger than love. I can't explain it."

Bones let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair.

"What are you going to do? You aren't going to attempt to break them up are you because you'd be signing your own death certificate at that point?"

It was Jim's turn to let out a sigh.

"I know, and no, I can't do that. Uhura's not a bad person. She's ruthless, stubborn, and terrifying at times, but she's not evil." He glanced away again, "And she loves Spock."

"So, what are you going to do?" His voice was soft.

He shook his head.

"I don't know, Bones. Maybe he's just confused, maybe I should give him some space."

Bones let out a harsh laugh.

"Oh man, there really is a God! I have never heard anything more rational come out of your mouth. I should record this; this could be the biggest event of the year!"

Jim shot him an indignant glare.

"Calm down, I was just teasing." Bones groused, "I think that's a good strategy. The guy is a Vulcan after all; it's very possible he could be confused. Just give it time, he'll figure it out." He sighed, "I'll speak to the Admiral, tell him that you're experiencing your first love and I'll be the idiot who will guide you through it. And you better thank me for this; I really hate being your damn babysitter."

A grin spread across Jim's face, blue eyes lit up.

"Thanks. Now, I do have some questions about sensitive spots on Vulcans." He said slyly, his eyebrows wiggling up and down.

"Get out, Jim." Bones growled, "Before I throw up on you again."

* * *

Jim showered after leaving the Sickbay, washing away the remaining parts of another drunken night. He leaned his forehead against the cool tile, letting the water run down his aching body. His room was in complete shambles, he had assessed the damage and it was going to cost him a huge chunk of his credits to replace and repair the broken items in his quarters. Also he wasn't sure how he was going to sleep in there later.

He groaned at the pounding in his head, he thought for sure this constant headache he'd been having for weeks now would go away, but it only seemed to feel worse. Surely it couldn't be due to the injury he had sustained on _Cestus III_? It should have healed enough for there to be no pain. He'd have to go back to Sickbay at some point and ask Bones for a hypo. That'd make his day.

Stepping from the shower, he wrapped the towel around his waist before staring at himself in the mirror. There was something different about his appearance. His skin appeared to have a tiny glow to it, the blue of his eyes, if it was possible, seemed to have gained another hue. But it wasn't just the way he looked; it was the way he felt. Sure he felt sick to his stomach and utterly hopeless when it came to the previous events but he also felt…calm? Even Bones had mentioned him acting uncharacteristically rational earlier. Why did he feel that the world would right itself eventually? Was it just wishful thinking?

_What has he done to me? I can't stop thinking about him. _

He shook his head, trying to reduce the sharp pains he was feeling in his skull. He had to get a grip on himself; he had barely scraped by with the Admiral. And there was the matter of Uhura; he didn't want to steal Spock away like a thief. This had to be Spock's decision without influences. But could he keep himself at bay? Would he be able to look at Spock without vivid memories flooding his brain? A strong urge to find him, to wrap himself around the warmth of him, to steal his lips in a passionate kiss surged through him and he gasped, grabbing the sink to steady himself from the intensity of the sudden desire.

_Damn Vulcan, I wish you could feel as bad as I do. _

Drying himself, he quickly slid on a clean uniform, thanking God that Bones had finally released him for duty. First he had to eat, his body had been put through an enormous amount of stress and he hadn't eaten nearly enough to compensate. He rushed from the room, eager to eat and get back to the bridge, anything to take his mind off things.

The mess hall was almost empty when he walked in, only a few Ensigns were laughing robustly in the corner. He sighed in relief; normally it was around the time Spock would usually show for lunch and it appeared he was going to miss him this time.

"Captain, how are you feeling?" A voice said from behind him that made him freeze. He turned to face her, her eyes glittering in what looked like relief. His stomach dropped at the sight of the Vulcan standing closely beside her, his eyes averted away. He had spoken too soon.

"Uh, hey Uhura. I'm fine, just got released for duty." He gave her a sheepish grin.

She smiled at him before lightly punching him in the arm.

"Good! You scared us to death! If you do that again I'm going to have to hurt you." She glared but the small tilt of the side of her mouth indicated she was teasing him. They had grown accustomed to a sibling type relationship. But now he felt guilty, she had no idea what was happening between them. Why wouldn't Spock tell her? Was it his way of protecting Jim?

"Do what again?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Stop trying to die on us! I swear you're purposely trying to give me a heart attack." There was a flicker of sorrow in her eyes before it faded away. She winked at him.

He chuckled, a smile playing on his lips.

"No promises."

She rolled her eyes.

"We were just about to eat, want to join us?" She asked, glancing back at Spock, her face falling slightly at the sight of him looking intently at the wall.

Jim winced at the question. He could just skip the meal and return to the bridge but it'd be suspicious if he were to leave now.

"Sure." He mumbled reluctantly as Uhura entwined her fingers into Spock's hand, causing him to jerk, his cheeks tinting green. He quickly glanced at Jim for a brief moment before ripping his eyes away to stare back at the wall.

_This is going to be hell._

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Jim eyed his replicated sandwich intently, wishing desperately that he could be anywhere else at the moment. Hoping that by some sheer miracle, there would be a crisis, or hell he'd even assist in janitorial duties if necessary as long as it got him away from the situation. It was too soon to be this close to Spock, he could feel the tension radiating off of him and it made him more eager to find an escape.

"Kirk!" Uhura's fingers were suddenly in his face, snapping repeatedly to gain his attention.

He blinked up at her, "What?"

She laughed softly, "Where were you just now? Seriously, you've been all over the place lately, you sure you're okay?"

He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the tension before giving her a cocky smile, "I was just thinking about how you looked in your underwear back at the Academy. Please tell me you have some leopard print ones somewhere?" His eyebrows hiked up his face, the smile never faltering.

She scoffed at him; a small blush tinted her cheeks before she swatted him hard at the back of his head.

"Ow, hey!" He laughed, rubbing at his already throbbing head.

"You pervert! I should've beaten you to a pulp while I had the chance!" She barked at him which only caused him to laugh harder.

"Admit it, you liked it. I mean I was practically naked too, you liked what you saw didn't you?" He teased, leaning his head against his hand, his eyebrows wiggling at her.

Her eyes narrowed.

"I will hurt you." Her voice dropped low, threatening.

He chuckled.

"Not my usual foreplay, but hey I'm always willing to try something new."

That did it, she clenched her fist before striking him hard in the upper arm, sending a sharp pain through it and made a small pained noise.

"Damn you've got some power behind that!" He rubbed at the throbbing muscle, shooting her another cocky grin just to elicit an irritated huff from her.

"You know, if you don't stop being such a skirt-chaser, you'll never find that one special person and settle down." She snarled, digging into her salad angrily.

And there it was again—the awkward silence. It draped over the table like a thick blanket. He returned his attention back to his sandwich, picking at the bread, rolling it between his fingers. He felt the weight of a gaze on him and he didn't need to look up to know whose it belonged to. Jim squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, his heart raced and he had the urge to scream. He swallowed back the emotion, nearly choking on the lump that had formed in his throat.

_Stop it. Stop looking at me, dammit. _

Jim tried to keep his gaze on his meal but suddenly found himself staring into two dark eyes. His heart leapt into his throat, he felt his body jerk with the sudden eye contact, a flash of Spock's heated hands gliding up his skin entered his mind and he had to fight away the memory. The Vulcan was still for a moment before breaking away from the connection, returning his attention to the steaming bowl of Plomeek soup. Jim's eyebrows furrowed, he knew Spock only ate the soup when he was upset or there was something wrong. He glanced back over to Uhura who didn't seem to notice or possibly didn't understand the significance of his meal. She ate diligently, hardly glancing up, her eyebrows still knitted together in silent irritation.

The sharp pain in his skull acted up again and his hand reached up to massage it.

"Spock, you're awfully quiet. Is everything all right?" Uhura's voice cut through the silence like a sharp knife, causing Jim to jump in his chair.

"I am well. My mind is preoccupied at the moment. Forgive me." He glanced up to her and she issued him a smile. Her hand reached out to caress his face, fingers sliding down until they tucked under his chin, pulling his face towards her and planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Jim glanced away quickly, his body trembled, tears stinging at his eyes. He knew they were an openly established couple; he had wanted his crew to feel comfortable on his ship. Now, he was regretting it. His stomach curled into a tight knot, he felt a pressure gripping his heart, and every breath sent a spike of pain through his body. Nausea burned up his throat, his body felt heavy.

He heard the small pop of their lips parting, the swish of cloth as they shifted away from the kiss and he quickly tried to regain his control, reaching blindly for the salt, his hand suddenly brushed against something soft and hot. Jim's eyes shot up, he had missed the salt completely, his fingers resting on top of Spock's hand lying flat on the table. His eyes darted upwards to find the Vulcan's face impassive, but something flickered deep in the chocolate irises.

He retracted his arm quickly, feeling the heat climbing back into his face as he pushed himself up from the table.

"I don't feel well, I'm going to Sickbay." He hastily mumbled before fleeing from the table, hearing Uhura calling out after him. As soon as he was clear of their view, his speed quickened, dashing down the hallway without glancing back.

* * *

He charged into Sickbay, running into Bones who was near the doors.

"What the devil?" Bones exclaimed, "Jim, what's going on?"

Jim panted heavily, his heart thudding hard against his chest as he pushed away from Bones to lean heavily against the wall. He shook his head as he gulped down air.

"Just," he wheezed in a breath, "Just getting some exercise." He weakly smiled.

"Geez, kid, don't scare me like that! I thought something was seriously wrong!" Bones snarled at him, taking a few deep breaths to settle his own adrenaline rush. "Now, why are you here? Shouldn't you be on the bridge?"

He laughed harshly, "Maybe. I thought I'd stop by first, have a drink with my old pal?"

"Jim, I'm a doctor not a bartender. I'm on duty and so are you." He groused.

Jim sighed.

"Fine, could you give me a hypo? My head's killing me." He moaned.

McCoy's eyebrows lifted.

"You're _asking _for a hypo? Must be one hell of a headache." He left for a brief moment before returning with the device, administrating it into Jim's neck and he hissed.

"Dammit! Why do they hurt so damn much?" He whined, rubbing at the injection sight.

"Alright princess, you can stop with the melodramatics." He rolled his eyes, "Now get." He pushed Jim towards the doors, "I don't want to see you back in here for a while."

Jim laughed as he was pushed roughly out the doors.

"Love you too, Bones!" He called over his shoulder, hearing a disgruntled snort before stalking towards the bridge.

* * *

"New Starfleet orders, Captain." Uhura's voice rang out through the bridge.

Jim sat stiffly in his chair, his eyes set hard on stars in front of him. He felt on edge, his body breaking out in a cold sweat, his hands tapping nervously on the arm rest. The bridge proved to be worse than the mess hall; here he was forced to engage with them.

"Relay the orders, Lieutenant."

"Starfleet has received a report of an unidentified creature attacking and killing individuals from the mining colony on _Janus VI_. We are to set course and investigate." She placed her fingers lightly to the device in her ear, "Also, Captain, you are to be debriefed by Admiral Bullock at o-eight-hundred hours."

He cursed softly under his breath. He had hoped the Admiral would've accepted McCoy's report and get off his back, but he was mistaken. He sighed.

"Alright." He turned his attention to the helmsman. "Set course for _Janus VI_, Mr. Sulu." He glanced to the Russian beside him, "Mr. Chekov, warp factor eight."

They both spoke in unison, "Aye, sir."

Jim thrummed his fingers absent mindedly; his mind was whirring at an intense speed. Too much was happening too soon. The stress in his body was building and the throbbing in his head had returned with a vengeance.

"Captain."

He jerked, but kept his eyes focused ahead.

"What is it, Mr. Spock?" He groused through clenched teeth.

"I have reviewed the reports from _Janus VI_ and discovered fifty men have perished. I recommend that you should not accompany the landing party as a safety precaution." He said flatly.

Jim shot him an indignant glare.

"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Spock, but I'll be _accompanying_ you all the same."

The Vulcan stilled, refusing to return back to his station. His hands clasped behind his back, his eyes set heavily on him.

"I must insist you remain onboard, Captain." Though his tone was firm, he heard something odd. Was he pleading?

"I'm going, Spock." He whispered; glancing back to the dance of the universe displayed before him. He felt the familiar shadow linger there a moment longer before it disappeared, leaving a strange emptiness in its place. The echo of Spock's words ringing in his mind.

"_I have witnessed your demise, twice in which I was unable to protect you."_

Spock wanted to keep him safe. But was it because of duty or something more?

_Dammit, Spock. _

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please review!  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Facing the Admiral was even more nerve wracking than it was to face Spock. Hell, he'd prefer it over the Admiral any day. At lease with the Vulcan, he could retreat into his own thoughts. But as he sat at the desk that Scotty had rebuilt for him along with replacing his computer, bless that Scott; he could not escape the impertinent stare, scrutinizing him with a heavy judgmental gaze. Why was he always the object of the Admiral's contempt? Didn't he have other Captains to bully or pester?

"I have received the Chief Medical Officer's report." Bullock stated bleakly, knitting his fingers together.

"_And_?" He winced at his unprofessional reply. He shouldn't be testing the Admiral's patience for him right now. It was like poking a sleeping tiger; you should just allow it to sleep.

The Admiral's face scrunched slightly, his eyes blazing.

"You are in optimal health and it says that there should be no cause for concern." His face darkened, "However, I still can't ignore your actions."

"I was given a psychological exam, _sir_." Jim emphasized the last part, feeling a twine of anger himself, "I passed it with flying colors. I just had an off night, that's all."

The Admiral's eyebrows rose.

"Oh? If I'm not mistaken, you've had many "off" nights according to your First Officer and the reports from the Academy as well. Seems as though this isn't the first time you've destroyed or damaged company property."

Jim physically flinched. Mentally cursing the Vulcan for opening his big mouth again, did he find it amusing to get Jim in trouble? Didn't he learn what happened last time when he reported Jim for going against the prime directive to save his sorry ass? He could just hear Spock now.

"_It would be against standard protocol to fail to report any action that may jeopardize the ship, its crew, or the mission at hand."_

He let out a small disdaining huff.

_Damn you, Spock._

"I'll refrain from any further "off" nights, Admiral." He grounded out in the best professional voice he could.

"See to it that you do." His voice low, threatening. "If I get whiff of one more similar incident, I will declare you as unfit. Am I clear?"

Jim's mouth twitched into a bitter smile, "Transparently, _sir._"

"Good. Now, we have received all reports attaining the motive of the Gorns who attacked _Cestus III_. We have reached a conclusion."

Jim pushed back his bitter rage for a moment, his natural curiosity peaking.

"What do you believe happened?"

The Admiral sighed.

"According to our reports, we established a base there without any prior knowledge of that section of the galaxy. It appears that it lied within occupying space with the Gorn race."

Jim stilled, processing the information.

"So…what you're saying is, we invaded _their _territory and they were merely protecting themselves?" Jim scoffed. "But, we didn't attack them at all!"

"Yes." He nodded solemnly. "However, they are within their rights to do so. We did not form a treaty or any alliance and claimed what was respectfully theirs."

Jim huffed in frustration, "So, Starfleet fucked up and innocent people lost their lives?" His voice raised a few octaves.

"Watch yourself, _Captain_ Kirk." The Admiral glowered at him.

"No! This is the _second_ time Starfleet was careless and people lost their lives!"

Including him. But he didn't have to say it; he knew the Admiral was aware.

"Captain Kirk, if you do not contain yourself I will be forced to order you to step down from command." He growled, anger flickering dangerously in his eyes.

Jim froze. He knew the Admiral had the authority, and he'd be very pleased to do so. However, it was bullshit that Starfleet was merely sweeping their mistakes under the rug as though they weren't as serious as they were. He was tired of playing the part as their lap dog, needlessly sacrificing himself when the events could have been avoided altogether in the first place.

"Forgive me, _Admiral_. I didn't mean to overstep my authority." He spat through gritted teeth.

"That temper will be your downfall someday, Captain. I suggest you seek out the help of your First Officer, have him teach you a thing or two about containing personal emotions in the line of duty."

That was a low blow.

"Are we finished?" Jim growled, clenching his fist tightly to keep from screaming.

"Yes, I have nothing further to discuss. You are clear for duty. However, you will be placed on temporary parole until further notice."

Jim's fist clenched tighter.

"Understood. Kirk out."

He cut the transmission, reeling from the conversation. He glanced at the chronometer, nine-thirty; Spock's shift would end in thirty minutes. He had wanted to avoid him as long as possible, but now…

He stalked from the room, seething, seeing a haze of red. And for the first time since the mission started, it wasn't because of their current…well, he didn't really know what to call it. The friendship card kind of burnt to a crisp once they had engaged intimately…but they weren't quite together either. Dammit. His head hurt, the pounding just kept getting worse, and it didn't help that the Vulcan had tattled on him again and got reprimanded by the Admiral.

Jim turned swiftly, sending a fist flying into a bulkhead, crying out for a moment when he felt the skin split, warm liquid dribbling from the wound. The pain stung his arm in painful tingles and he smiled. That felt better. He couldn't fight Spock, not if he wanted to lose command. But he sure as hell wasn't going to let him off the hook.

Keying the emergency override code into Spock's personal quarters, he entered and was immediately hit by a force of nearly unbearable heat. He stopped, his anger faltering for a moment as his body slowly adjusted to the higher temperature. Jim was disoriented; sweat beginning to accumulate on his brow as he slowly made his way through the dim room. Plopping down on the Vulcan's chair, he lifted his legs up to place his feet on his desk. This was a Human gesture that he knew irritated Spock. He smirked darkly.

Jim was sweating profusely by the time Spock entered his quarters, stopping dead when he noticed Jim's shadowed outline.

"Captain?"

He'd been ready. So ready to let him have it, to get it all out. But what came out was not what he expected.

"You don't love her!"

_What the hell, Jim?_

Spock paused, head cocking slightly to the side before he continued into the room, the door swishing closed behind him.

"Computer, lights to eighty percent." Spock commanded.

The lights flickered on, making Jim blink repeatedly, rubbing his eyes. When his eyes adjusted, he found Spock standing on the opposite side of the desk, staring down at him. His eyebrow twitched slightly, was he annoyed?

"Captain, you have violated my personal rooms without due cause." He said flatly, eyeing the feet on his desk before his gaze found Jim's injured hand. "And you have injured yourself."

"Oh, gee, sorry Spock, you going to run and tattle to Bullock again?" He sneered.

The Vulcan's head ticked to the side, something stirring in his eyes.

"I am afraid I do not underst—"

"Dammit, Spock! What are you doing? Are you _trying _to get me fired? Do you _enjoy_ tormenting me?" He pushed himself from the chair, slamming his injured fist down onto the desk, cringing. "Do you like messing with my head? I know you don't love her, Spock! I'm not blind! I—"

A growl rumbled through the room and with liquid speed, Spock had suddenly rounded the desk, pushing him back into the wall, his lips hot against his. The kiss was painful, possessive, sloppy, and Jim swore his lips would bruise from the force. Jim's hands pressed themselves against the Vulcan's chest, pushing, trying to pry him off of him.

Spock snarled, hands grasping Jim's wrists, tight enough to bruise and he gasped.

"Do _not _fight me!" He growled in Jim's face, causing his heart to leap into his throat.

"Spock?" He whispered.

It was like his name snapped him out of a strange trance because his face suddenly slackened, his hands releasing Jim's wrists, backing away quickly.

"Captain…I am sorry."

"W-what the hell was that?" Jim exclaimed, breathless. His lips ached, was that even possible?

Spock's hands clenched into tight fists.

"Captain…I…request to put in my allotted time for shore leave."

The question was so random it took Jim aback slightly.

"What?"

"I have sufficient amount of time as I—"

"I know, Spock, but…why? What's going on? Are you feeling okay?" Jim was thrown through a loop. This was completely out of character, random. Spock had been acting strangely; a bit protective of him, losing some of his control. Hadn't he stated that he didn't want to be with Jim? Yet, here he was, making out with him again.

"I cannot say. I request emergency transport to New Vulcan and I will use my allotted shore time."

"But, Spock, we're on our way to _Janus_—"

"I _must_, Jim." The desperate tone in his voice was enough for Jim to pause.

"Okay, Spock. I'll…see what I can do." He said gently, slowly approached the Vulcan, his hand extending towards him. "But, please, you have to tell me what's going on? Why were you…I thought Uhura…?"

"You need to leave, Jim." A low growl escaped him. "I…do not wish to harm you."

Jim's hand was inches from the Vulcan, and he could feel the tension trembling from his body. His pupils were blown, jaw clenched tightly.

"Spock." Jim breathed.

A shudder ran through the Vulcan, his eyes sliding shut.

"Go, Jim." His voice strained, barely audible.

Jim didn't know why but he obliged, shuffling away from the Vulcan, taking one last look at him before leaving his quarters.

That didn't go anywhere near what he had planned.

* * *

**A/N: The first person to point out all the subtle hints I left leading up to this will have their SN mentioned and I will make the next chapter exceptionally long. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry for the wait! I had a little bit of a writer's block for a while (knew where I was going but couldn't figure out how to get it written down). I'll try to update again here real soon to make up for it! **

* * *

**Chapter 13**

"Captain, may I speak with you?"

Jim turned at the sound of her voice, she seemed unsettled, nervous. The bridge crew busied themselves with their work and didn't glance up at her request. Spock had been issued medical leave from his duties for the day and it worried Jim, considering the Vulcan would never miss a shift, even if he had to crawl to his chair battered and bruised.

"Of course, Lieuten—"

"In private?" She cut him off quickly, her eyes hard, serious.

Jim swallowed hard. What did she want to discuss? He was positive it pertained to Spock somehow, but he wasn't sure if it had to do with his strange behavior or their…

"Captain?" She asked tentatively and Jim realized he had been staring blankly at her for a few moments.

He blinked, "Yes, of course." He mumbled, slipping from his chair, ordering Sulu to take the _Conn. _before following her into the lift. If he had thought the rides in the lift with Spock were awkward, he had been horribly mistaken. The tension lingering between them hung in the air heavily, the ride was silent; a pin could drop and be heard a mile away. He shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat, "So, wha—"

"Not here." She snapped.

He held up his hands in defense at her sudden hostility before folding them behind his back to hide them shaking. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but she'd always intimidated him. Sure he'd play it off with some harmless flirting, but in the end his nerves were wracked by her omnipotent demeanor. She always managed to curve Spock to her advantage in several decisions, including being assigned to the _Enterprise_ for the Narada mission. It only took minor detective skills on Jim's part to find that little piece of information out. How Spock could put up with her was beyond his comprehension, but who was he to question it?

Didn't he possess similar traits?

The lift's doors hissed open to deck five, taking him aback at the location. He'd expected to be lead to a conference room, or possibly the observation deck which was usually barren around this time of day. She gave him a quick look before departing the lift without glancing behind her, expecting him to follow. Jim scrutinized her backside, the way she traipsed down the hallway, the confidence in her strides, her body so toned and perfect, appearing fragile but extremely lethal. He took a quick moment to admire her strength, the ability she possessed to hold her head high and never surrender her very being to anyone. Not even a Vulcan. Guess he could see what Spock saw in her after all. Who was he to compare?

Jim hesitantly ensued until they reached his quarters. Her arms crossed, watching him as he shakily keyed in his code. When did he start allowing her to boss him around? Oh wait, the moment he was guilty of pursuing her boyfriend. Right, that would be it.

The doors hissed open and she charged into the room without a word. She stood with her back facing him, her foot tapping feverishly. His heart pounded in his chest and he trembled as he entered behind her. Did she know? Had Spock confessed everything? They were alone now, no one to witness if she wanted to kill him. Jim couldn't blame her, he'd probably feel the same if their positions were switched.

"Captain." She whirled around to face him as the doors hissed closed behind him. "I need to talk to you about Spock."

_Here it comes._

"What about him?" He inquired, attempting to sound innocent and failing miserably.

She searched his face, unflinching, her face stoic.

"I know…something."

He swallowed.

"Know what?" He shifted uncomfortably, balling his hands into fists.

She closed the distance between them with two long strides.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, "I know…why he's acting the way he is."

"Are you going to tell me, or did he you get me all alone for _other _reasons?" Jim grinned out of habit and it faltered slightly as her eyes narrowed.

"I_ shouldn't _tell you if you can't handle a serious conversation." She sneered.

"Okay, okay, sorry." He defended, taking a small step back. "But I don't really appreciate you beating around the bush. Just get to the point."

She sighed, glancing down to her feet.

"There is a stage in every Vulcan's life where their primeval instincts overcome their logic and control. When this happens, they have to bond with a mate or they'll die. This is usually very private and no one should be aware exempt the involved parties."

Jim gawked at her.

"What?" He let out a breathy laugh, "What do you mean by bond? Do you mean marriage?"

"Not quite." She looked up to him, "It can be considered that yes, but it's more to it than that. I can't really explain it."

Jim placed a hand to his head, the throbbing had intensified again. He couldn't count the number of times he'd visited McCoy in sickbay. The man was extremely perplexed with Jim's desire to be hypoed nearly all the damn time and honestly, he was a bit disturbed by it as well.

He sighed, "So why do they die if they don't bond?"

She shook her head.

"I shouldn't say anymore. All you need are the basics. Like I said, it's a private matter. Vulcans don't even discuss it amongst other Vulcans. But I must insist that we set course for _New Vulcan_." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I'll see what I can do." He frowned, "But how did _you_ come by this information?" He accused harshly.

There was a palpable pause as she again searched his face.

"That's what I need to talk to you about most of all. This ritual can last for days or weeks, it just depends. I know this information because…Spock has chosen me as his mate."

Jim's heart stopped at her words, the blood in his veins ran cold.

She continued, "I need to request my allotted time off as well. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone—"

Her words began to fade in the distance. The world seemed to be spinning, a pressure building on his chest. Her words repeating like a broken record in his mind. Spock was getting married to Uhura. He chose her. He wasn't coming back to him. It was over. Done. Lost. He'd never feel Spock's embrace, never feel his lips against his, never curl up beside him in his bed again. Someone was faintly calling his name but he couldn't comprehend them with the image of Spock's face invading his head.

"Kirk!" Her voice broke through the loud buzz of his mind, her hands clutching his shoulders, shaking him roughly.

He pushed her aside, the throbbing in his head becoming immense, causing him to feel dizzy and nauseous.

"I understand." He whispered, "I'm sorry, Uhura. I need to lie down, I don't feel well."

"Are you alright?" She exclaimed, grasping his arm. "Kirk, you need to go to sickbay!"

He shook his head, causing the already spinning room to sway and he shoved her away, stumbling into his sleeping quarters. The pounding in his head became piercing as he fell onto the bed, his hands pressing against his head as he began to scream from the pain.

"Hold on, I'll get Doctor McCoy!" He vaguely heard her as he continued to holler.

He didn't hear her leave nor did he hear the hissing of the doors and someone entering. Suddenly there were warm hands on him, cradling him against their chest, fingers brushing over his face gently as he whimpered in pain. A gentle presence entered the front of his mind, softly brushing against him before a wave of soothing warmth rushed through him, the pain in his head ebbing. Drowsiness replaced the warmth, slowly pulling under.

Straining to see through bleary vision, he recognized the stoic face, the dark eyes that stared down at him.

"Spo—"

_Be still, Jim. Sleep._

Jim's eyelids grew heavy. Before he completely succumbed to unconsciousness he heard the Vulcan softly whispering, wishing to all the Gods in the universe that he could have made out those tender words.

* * *

"I can't allow it. You have your orders already."

"Sir, this is top priority. It's a matter of life and death." Jim protested, hands extending out to emphasize the seriousness of the situation.

The Admiral glared at him.

"Captain Kirk, you are currently on parole, it is unwise to go against the orders you are given regardless of the circumstance."

Jim clenched his teeth.

"Sir, if you contact _New Vulcan_ and inquire about this yourself, you'll see it's necessary."

"I have made my decision." The Admiral's eyes narrowed, "Don't attempt anything rash, Captain." The screen blackened as the transmission went dead.

He let out a flurry of curses, slamming his fist down onto the desk. He'd been consistently trying to persuade them to allow the detour but to no avail. Regardless of how he felt about Spock and Uhura, he couldn't allow him to die. But if he went against orders and turned the ship around to New Vulcan, he'd lose command. How did he manage to always find himself stuck between a rock and a hard place?

He stalked from the conference room, seething, mind whirling, hardly focusing on his surroundings. He bumped into Ensigns and other crewmen without apologizing as he made his way to the lift. Smashing the button for the bridge with such force that it cracked the glass, a small drizzle of blood trailed down the side of his hand. Tired, God he was tired. Tired of being the one who gave up so much for everyone, was it selfish to feel like that? He was the Captain; it was his duty to ensure the safety and wellbeing of his crew, even at the risk of his own life.

_Dammit._

He knew his decision.

The doors hissed open to the bridge and he dreaded the words he was about to speak as he trudged to his chair.

"I need everyone's attention." He said solemnly as they turned curiously to look at him. "I am about to go against direct orders from Starfleet to save First Officer Spock's life." He glanced over to the science station, the replacement science officer watched him warily. "If you object to this, you are free to do so without any underlining consequences. I will note your objections in the log."

The bridge was cast in silence as the crew exchanged nervous glances.

"Destination, Captain?" Sulu asked, straightening in his chair, a grin spreading across his face.

Jim smiled incredulously at the cooperation of his crew. His crew, they wouldn't be his anymore. This was the last command he'd be giving them.

"Set course for _New Vulcan_, Mr. Sulu, maximum warp."

* * *

Jim stood outside the door, his palms sweaty, heart hammering in his chest. How he had ended up here was astonishing when he fully intended to head for sickbay for another rendezvous with the hypo happy doctor. They were only fifteen minutes out from the planet's orbit and he wanted to make himself scarce, but found he had failed miserably at the task. He reached out, hand hovering over the button. Why did he need to see him? The Vulcan had made his decision. Why was he making this harder on himself? He turned to leave but a muffled cry through the door caused him to stop abruptly.

With a rush of adrenaline, he quickly keyed in the override code, flinging himself into the room as soon as the doors opened. Spock was crumpled on the floor, his hand grasping his head. He screamed a desperate, primeval scream that sent chills down Jim's spine.

"Spock!" He cried, falling to his knees beside the Vulcan.

He placed a hand on Spock's back, feeling him tremble uncontrollably.

"Spock! Are you alright? Answer me!" He pleaded, attempting to pry the hands away from his face but the Vulcan didn't move, simply let out another ear piercing scream.

"Kirk!" He flinched at her voice.

He whirled around to face her, her eyes wide with horror.

"What's happening?" He shouted in panic.

"Help me get him to the transporter room!" She shouted hastily, hurrying over to them, grabbing ahold of Spock's arm. "We're running out of time!"

Jim didn't question her as he grabbed the Vulcan's other arm, helping her haul him to his feet. He hunched over, allowing them to swing his arms over their shoulders, dragging him out of the room to the lift. Spock panted heavily, a sheen of sweat appearing on his brow, his eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched. Jim stared at him, feeling utterly helpless.

The doors hissed open and they took off for the transporter room.

"Scotty! Are we in orbit?" Jim shouted and Scotty pushed to his feet in alarm

"No, sir! We should be within beaming range momentarily!"

They dragged Spock up onto the transporter pad, easing him down onto his knees.

"Uhura, get to the other transporter pad, I'll get on mine when—"

"You can't come with us!"

He blinked at her, taken aback.

"What? You can't do this your—"

"Kirk, you can't! Remember what I said, this is private, you have to stay here."

Jim was speechless staring at her, glancing down to Spock when he made another pained noise. How could he stay here? How would he know if they'd make it in time?

How could he let the only one he loved bond with someone else?

He nodded solemnly, "Okay." He whispered, releasing Spock before shuffling off the pad.

"Entering orbit now, sir." Scotty said a small amount of panic welling up in his voice.

Jim stared at the two on the pad. Spock didn't look up, keeping his eyes focused on the floor below him. Uhura cradled him to her, brushing her fingers through his hair, whispering into his ear. He swallowed back to the lump in his throat, tears stinging at his eyes.

"Energize, Scotty." His voice barely above a whisper.

The familiar lights engulfed the pair and before he could blink they vanished.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Another update as promised, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

"You did _what_?" Bones exclaimed. "Jim, you could lose command over this! You could be court martialed for going against a direct order!"

Jim remained silent, averting his sight away from the baffled doctor. McCoy's private quarters had a different feel to it than his, no lingering memories of Spock inside the foreign walls, a pleasant relief from the haunting images inside his own room. Picking up the familiar glass and pressing it to his lips, he swigged the burning liquid in the hope it would rid him of the raging emotions rolling inside. Hoping it would numb him from the pain. The clinking of the ice was the only indication the glass was empty and he reached out towards the bottle again only to be stopped by a hand latching tightly onto his wrist.

His eyes shot up to the doctor, anger flaring over his body.

"What the hell are you doing, Bones?" He snapped, rising quickly to his feet.

McCoy kept his firm grip, shifting his stance, preparing to defend himself if necessary. The man knew Jim. The years spent sharing a dorm room with the young man at the Academy was enough to learn his habits well, especially while intoxicated. It wouldn't be the first time the doctor had to pry alcohol away from him with the possible result of a brawl between the two. There were many nights Jim would be swept away with uncontrollable rage, his past haunting him with the aid of the liquid adrenaline and they would find themselves battered and bruised the next morning, their room in shambles, and Jim weeping in the man's arms.

"Jim." His voice lowered, "I know what you're trying to do. This isn't going to help."

"Shut up!" Jim spat, "Like hell it won't! You don't think I know what I just did? I just did what I always do, Bones! I sacrifice everything for everyone else! I gave up everything for a man I love and who can never return it back! I don't even know if he's alive, or happy, or if he ever truly felt anything for me!" He barked, attempting to jerk his hand away to no avail.

"Dammit, Jim! Stop thinking of the damn pointy-eared bastard for a minute and focus on the real situation here! Spock will be fine. It's _you _who's now in deep shit. Like I said before, you could be court martialed; do you know what that means Jim? You could not only lose your career, you could be imprisoned!"

"Let me go Bones, or I swear I'll pound your face in. You have no right to tell me what and what not to think about!" Jim growled, eyes narrowing.

McCoy warily released Jim's wrist and watched as Jim took a step back, his body trembling with rage. Of course he knew the repercussions of saving Spock's life. He was well aware of what his fate could be. Or was he? Had he been so consumed with Spock's safety that he hadn't thought the consequences through?

"Jim." Bones said gently, "This," he snatched the bottle from the desk, "is not the answer." He tossed it behind him, a loud clank echoed as it landed in the doctor's sleeping quarters, away from Jim's grasp. He reached a hand out, grabbing Jim's arm, his face crestfallen. "I understand your heartache, Jim. I understand it in more ways than I could ever describe it."

"Don't." Jim warned, tensing.

"I know what it's like to lose the one you love." He continued.

"Bones." Jim's voice wavered as he took another step backward, Bones taking a step forward with him.

"You can't keep this bottled up, Jim. I know you. This wasn't your fault. You did a good thing by letting him go with Uhura. You saved his life."

Tears were welling up, his vision blurring.

"Stop." It came out as a whispered plea as he was backed against the wall.

"You have to accept he's made his decision, Jim. It wasn't you he chose, you have to let it go."

Jim inhaled a shaky breath.

"I love him." He whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek.

"I know." Bones said softly, a flicker of a thought twinkling in his eyes. It was easy for Jim to decipher, he knew the man well enough to know what it mean.

McCoy had always known.

"J-just leave me alone!" He shouted, shoving him away. He attempted to flee from the room but a firm hand grasped his forearm, forcing him to whirl back around to face the doctor.

"I can't." McCoy's eyes flooded dark with emotion, "I…can't allow it to happen again."

Jim swallowed hard.

"It won't." He said softly.

"You're about to lose everything, you can't tell me you won't try it again. Remember the last time you felt you had no way out?"

Jim shuddered at the memory, the cliff so close, barely hanging on the edge and realizing it would be easy to let it end. End it all and never feel pain again.

"I told you that in the strictest of confidences as one friend to another, not for you to use against me!" He barked, feeling the bitter sting of betrayal.

"Jim, listen t—"

"No! I'm done listening! I'm done placing my trust in the wrong hands!" The tears rolled down his face, the liquor burned through his veins. He couldn't stop the emotions from spilling out, so much he kept inside, too much to bear. He turned to leave again, but was shocked as he was tugged forcefully backward into a firm embrace. "L-let go!" He cried, attempting to pry the doctor away.

"No." McCoy's voice was firm.

Jim struggled against his grip, screaming, shouting, and sobbing until he grew fatigued. Knees weakening and beginning to buckle, he allowed Bones to guide him to the bed. He fell onto it, the world spinning, his head throbbing.

"I hate you." Jim whispered weakly.

"No you don't."

Jim sighed, eyes burning as his eyelids drooped.

"You're right…I don't."

"You're agreeing with me? Maybe I should be recording this historic event." Bones mildly teased.

A weak grin grew on Jim's face.

"You're an ass." He whispered.

McCoy grunted, "Comes with the territory."

As Jim drifted off to sleep he heard a small sigh emanating from the doctor who stood beside the bed before hearing him grumble, "You've got a good heart, kid. Just wish it was enough to save you."

* * *

Jim stared at the planet from the observation deck, his body felt numb, cold. The pain in his head was now a constant piercing pain and no amount of hypos would dull it. He prolonged the departure from _New Vulcan_ as long as he could, by now Starfleet was sure to have received word from the mining colony that the _Enterprise _hadn't arrived. He was sure by now the admiralty was issuing a warrant for his arrest.

Though the fear of his unknown fate ate away at him, something else was tugging at him, a sense that something was awry. The more he attempted to force away the thoughts of Spock, the stronger they became. It didn't sit right with him. There was something wrong with the Vulcan and he wasn't sure what or how he knew it.

Closing his eyes, he began to think of the man, the image of the Vulcan morphed before him, a softened expression on his face, such an odd look from his usual stoic features. The image of Spock reached out to him and he felt his heart race, longing to reach for those elongated fingers that once caressed him as well.

_This is just your imagination, Jim, he isn't real and he is no longer yours. _

The image of Spock's hand stopped, floating in the air before him. There was sheen to his eyes, was he crying? Then the Vulcan opened his mouth, a sound catching in his throat before his voice blasted through his mind.

"_T'hy'la."_

Jim felt confused; this was his mind, his imagination. Why was Spock spouting off words he didn't understand? He felt silly as he looked at the Vulcan's face, embarrassed that his mind was conjuring up such a strange occurrence. He was so entranced by his thoughts; he hadn't heard the doors hissing open behind him.

"Captain!" The voice startled him, he jerked. The image of Spock fizzling from view before his eyes snapped open.

He whirled around to the Ensign, "What is it?"

The Ensign was out of breath as he relayed the message, "Captain, emergency transmission from the planet's surface, you are requested to beam down immediately!"

Jim processed the words before his heart stopped, a sense of foreboding washing over him.

"Understood." He said and hastily exited from the room.

He thundered down the corridors, all thoughts vanishing from his mind. A sense of urgency overcame him, a panic rising through his body. Barely even registering his journey through the ship, he reached the transporter room in a dead run before abruptly skidding to a halt. She stood on the transporter pad, rigid, eyes trained on Jim. He froze as she stiffly moved down the steps, approaching him until they were mere inches apart. Her face deadpanned, eyes glittering in the light.

"Uhura?" He asked gently, "What hap—?"

There was a sudden motion, a burning sting on his cheek as her fist collided with his face. He felt a copper flavor fill his mouth, swallowing it down before tenderly touching his aching cheek. Jim glanced up to her and found her trembling, her eyebrows knitting together.

"Uhura?" He asked again tentatively.

She didn't say a word as she roughly brushed passed him, causing him to stumble sideways. She marched from the room without glancing back.

He stared after her for moment before returning his attention back to the mission. His suspicions were correct, something was definitely amiss. Jim traipsed up onto the pad, glancing down at the puzzled Scotsman who scrutinized him warily.

"Hey, Scotty could you…?" he glanced back to the doors where Uhura had stormed out.

He nodded curtly.

"Aye, sir, I'll see to the lass." He said softly. "Is everythin' all righ' with Mr. Spock?"

Jim shook his head.

"I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out." He straightened himself, staring down at the engineer. "Energize."

Scotty nodded and Jim watched as the world brightened before him, the lights engulfing him for a moment before the image of a desert appeared before him. A heat so intense hitting him instantly, causing him to sway, eyes squeezing shut from the brightness of the rays. He could feel his fair skin begin to sizzle as he stumbled blindly forward before a hand touched his shoulder.

"Captain Kirk." A familiar voice boomed next to him and he attempted to shade his eyes to see his face.

"Ambassador Sarek?"

"Yes, if you will be inclined to follow me inside." It wasn't quite a question and there was a hint of something underlining his tone that Jim didn't like. He felt as though he was being scrutinized, that the Vulcan was displeased to have him there. Sarek would deny it, but Jim could sense it.

"Of course." He replied and allowed him to guide him towards the building. He felt foolish being led like a child but under the current conditions it was nearly impossible to maneuver on his own. He was sweating profusely by the time they entered, blinking back the black dots invading his vision as he strained to survey his surroundings.

"Captain."

Jim squinted up at him, his vision still adjusting.

"Yes?"

"Do you possess the knowledge of your First Officer's condition?" He asked flatly, fingers folding together in front of him.

"I have a vague explanation of it, yes." Jim said tentatively, feeling the weight of the Vulcans gaze heavily upon him.

"Then you have been made aware that death is certain if he fails?"

Jim swallowed hard.

"Yes." He wasn't quite sure what Sarek was trying to say. "With all due respect, why was my presence requested, sir? I thought he had chosen Miss Uhura?"

Silence fell between them for a palpable moment, causing Jim to shift uncomfortably before the Vulcan spoke up again.

"His choice has unfortunately been revoked. You alone possess the capability to aid him." He could hear the animosity underlining his tone. Though Vulcans claim they don't have emotions, Jim could feel his contempt for him with that statement and he wasn't sure as to why.

"Sir, I'm not sure I understand?"

"Go to him, Captain Kirk." He gestured over to a doorway a few feet away. "He awaits your arrival."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Just a fair warning, I'm sure most of you understand what **_**Pon Farr**_** entails, but for those who don't please know the mature content will be a bit brutal. Once again (***=Mature Content: will be placed before and after). I will attempt to be brief. Enjoy. **

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Jim swallowed hard, his heart leaping into his throat, the piercing pain aching in his skull. What did he mean by him being the only one to help Spock? Why hadn't Uhura? And why was there a dark emotion spilling into Sarek's eyes? God, Jim was sick of the secrets and unanswered questions, tired of being judged and scrutinized. What had he done that had been so wrong?

_You had an affair with Uhura's boyfriend._ His mind chimed in.

Right, there was that.

Jim nodded curtly, turning towards the door feeling a bit uneasy. He didn't understand what he was supposed to be doing. He reached the door and it swished open as though it had remained unlocked with the expectation of Jim's arrival. He stepped through it and froze, it had led into a long stretch of hallway and he jumped when the door slid shut behind him. His heart pounded, something didn't seem quite right.

He tentatively strolled down the hallway, his heart pounding hard against his chest, fear creeping over him. Since when was he afraid of Spock? He knew what the Vulcan was capable of. Yes the Vulcan had an enormous capability to act on certain emotions, knowing this full well after being strangled on the bridge. But did this ritual involve any sort of physical violence? Uhura had been afraid and very careful not to reveal any of the important details. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to fight him.

Reaching the end of the hallway, he inhaled a shaky breath as the second door swished open, taking a small step inside the dim room and flinching again as the door hissed shut behind him. The room was spacious enough but not large enough to fit more than a few people at a time. There was a bed off near the corner, a table in the center and a stack of fresh blankets and towels on a chair beside the bed. He glanced warily around the room, wondering where Spock was and as though it was his cue, another door slid open to reveal the Vulcan in question, emerging from what looked like a bathroom.

_Strange…this place is set up like we're going to—_

A deep growl cut him from his thoughts and he felt the blood in his veins run cold. Spock was dressed in strange robes; staring with hungry eyes, his lip curling in a small snarl, body trembling as he lingered in the doorway. Jim stood frozen to the spot, scrutinizing Spock from afar; he didn't look like he was near death, no far from it. What did Uhura and Sarek mean that if he failed he would die? Fail at what? Didn't bonding mean holding a certain ceremony such as a wedding?

"Spock?" Jim said gently, taking a hesitant step towards him. "What…what's going on?"

In a fluid motion, Spock was suddenly across the room, his hands wrapping tightly around Jim's wrists as he shoved him hard against the wall, pinning him, Spock's face inches from his. Jim gasped, the fight fleeing his body as he drowned in the dark depths of Spock's eyes.

"Jim." He growled lowly and Jim swallowed hard.

"Spock." It came out in a strained whisper.

The Vulcan's eyes slid shut. The action looked as though it took great effort to accomplish as he gritted his teeth in the process.

"You…are not…required to follow through…with this, Captain." Spock grounded out, breathing in short ragged breaths, his hands clenching Jim's wrists tight enough to bruise.

"And what, allow you to die?" Jim whispered, "I can't do that, Spock, but I don't know…what I'm supposed to do."

The Vulcan closed the distance between their faces, leaning his forehead against Jim's, a violent tremble running through. Another gasp escaped Jim as Spock squeezed his wrists even tighter, grimacing at the shooting pain.

"You must…understand." It was a harsh whisper, another growl rumbling low in his throat, "You…are in…danger."

Before Jim could ask him to elaborate, the sharp pain in Jim's head suddenly exploded, turning into an immense, blinding white pain and he screamed, eyes clenching shut, tears leaking from beneath. The pain ripped down the center of his skull, feeling as though the very bone was cracking, chipping away. His nerves were set on fire, his body ablaze, drowning in red-hot pain. Something in the back of his head burned with such intensity, he swore it would melt his brain.

When the pain seemed to recede enough to focus on his thoughts, he came to lying on the bed, Spock straddling him, heated pads of fingers pressed against his face. He could still feel the pain, lurking in the depths but something was blocking it from him and he blinked up at Spock's face which oddly held some sort of grimace, eyes still ablaze with an intense hunger that caused shivers to run down Jim's spine.

"It is there_._" Spock whispered.

"What?" Jim's voice felt hollow, distant. What was happening? "What's there?"

Spock shook his head, "I wish…for your consent to this. I cannot…" His eyes slid shut, gritting his teeth again, "control myself much longer."

Spock wasn't making sense, but Jim sensed that it would be detrimental to Spock if he wasn't allowed to do the ritual soon, whatever that meant. Jim reached a shaky hand up to his face, cupping Spock's cheek gently and felt the Vulcan jerk at the sudden contact, his eyes shooting open with surprise.

"Okay, Spock." He whispered as a wave of confusion swept over him with the sudden sheen over the dark voids of his eyes, unshed tears glistening near his bottom lashes.

"Forgive me." His voice strained before his features contorted into something Jim had seen only once while the Vulcan was strangling the life from him. His pupils blown, eyebrows furrowing as he removed the hand from Jim's face.

*******As soon as the hand slipped away, the piercing pain seized forward, slamming into Jim, forcing another scream from his lips. But it was quickly muffled as Spock forcefully pressed a rough kiss against them. A possessive growl rumbled in the Vulcan's chest as he moved from Jim's lips, licking along the fragile skin over the thrumming artery causing Jim to wriggle in discomfort beneath him. Spock's hands quickly found his wrists again, forcefully pinning them to the bed.

"You will _cease_." He demanded, growling against Jim's skin and Jim instantly froze.

Satisfied with Jim's obedience, Spock continued, nipping and kissing the fragile skin before plunging his teeth deep into the crook of his neck. Jim whimpered as the pain shot through him, his breath catching in his chest as the pressure intensified, Spock's fingers digging deep into Jim's wrists simultaneously at the same time. The sound of Jim's pained whines elicited a physical response, the Vulcan's erection brushing against his abdomen in an uncomfortable gesture.

The pressure relieved, a stinging pain replacing it as a coarse tongue licked along the tender wound on his neck and flinched as Spock harshly whispered by his ear, "Mine."

Jim's heart rate spiked, pounding so hard against his chest, he felt it would explode from his body. Spock leaned back, an uncharacteristic smirk creeping across his face as he surveyed the damage to Jim's neck. With the pain ripping through Jim's skull and the dominance of Spock, his mind had all but stopped functioning. Only able to lie there and allow Spock to continue, wishing the burning at the back of his head would cease.

A dark thought flickered across Spock's eyes before he gripped the hem of Jim's uniform, ripping it with ease from his body, raising his torso off the bed slightly in the process. The cloth scraped across his skin, digging into his side, leaving a dark trail of welts along his tanned flesh. The hand that had been freed whipped up, clutching at Spock's arm tightly, Jim's eyes widening with surprise.

"S-Spock?" Jim stuttered as the Vulcan's hand had reached down to grip the rim of his pants but as soon as he had protested the action, there was a blur of motion, a sting ringing out in his cheek as his head rocked to the side from the force of Spock backhanding him. Stunned at the sudden hostility, he stared at the wall as warm liquid seeped from his nostrils, feeling the painful scrapes down his thighs the Vulcan divested him of the remainder of his clothing in one swift motion.

A heated hand clasped around his shaft, working it too roughly as Spock bent down and bit him again, teeth sinking deep into his collarbone, eliciting another strained cry. Jim dug his hand into the Vulcan's hair, yanking it to attempt to free himself but was met with low growl before Spock's mouth sought out his again; his lips crushing against his, teeth clashing as his tongue dived into the crevice of Jim's mouth hungrily, tasting the mixture of Spock and the copper of his own blood.

Jim made small sounds of protest; the intensity differing immensely from the night they had spent together. Spock was ruthless, possessive, lacking the passion and tenderness he had shown Jim previously.

Spock broke the kiss abruptly, another hand smacking across Jim's face with a frustrated growl over the lack of Jim's arousal. Jim felt his anger boil in his veins. Between the pain and confusion of the situation, his inner demon surfaced. He knew he shouldn't release it, Spock was three times his strength, but before he could contain himself, his hand clenched into a fist and watched with deep satisfaction as it collided with Spock's jaw before almost instantly regretting it.

His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze with rage as his hand lashed out, latching around Jim's throat. Panic flared through Jim's body as he struggled to inhale, his chest burning, thoughts screaming for air, taking in the frightening sight of the sinister grin plastered on Spock's face before a white haze settled over his vision. Jim choked as he felt something brush against his opening for a palpable moment before it plunged inside, smashing through it, tearing him open with a red-hot pain that shot through his body, mingling with the burning in his lungs and head. His eyes clamped shut as tears pooled beneath them, streaking down his reddening face in steady streams.

Writhing beneath him from the pain, he felt a hot hand grasp his hip, fingers sinking into his flesh, pinning him down as the Vulcan slid out of him only to thrust again with incredible strength back inside. He felt the frail flesh inside tear as Spock accelerated in his thrusts, too much pain, too much sensation. Why was this happening?

Black dots danced in his vision, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The pressure at his throat abruptly ceased, a hiss of air ringing through the room as he inhaled, gulping down deep desperate breaths as the pads of Spock's finger reattached to his face.

_A flash of light exploded in his mind, he felt something delving into him, ripping and tearing, trying to obtain a greater depth. Colors and sounds whirled around him, memories of his past fleeting before him, being pulled to the surface as the barriers that kept them at bay were smashed open in a manic carelessness. _

_A memory surfaced, causing the presence to pause and watch curiously for a moment. It was the memory of the elder Spock and Jim's fondness for the Vulcan spilled through the void, flooding the plane of his mind. He didn't love him, no, but the Vulcan had always expressed staggering admiration and tenderness he had never received before and he felt a strange closeness to him. The memory of the elder Vulcan's eyes, soft and longing sent shivers through Jim's body._

You are not _his_, you are _mine_! _An angry voice echoed through his mind as the memory was ripped away with such force, it sent his mind reeling, allowing the presence to reach its destination._

_There was a thread of gold, a dim light emanating from its stringy surface. The presence reached for it, wrapping its essence around it and the thread sprung to life, the dim light growing in intensity. Curiosity overtook him as he also reached for the thread as well, overlapping the presence, gripping ahold of the string. The light grew blindingly bright, a heat radiating off of it until Jim felt a powerful force push him back. _

Jim flooded back into his body just as Spock released, a strangled sound escaping him. Jim felt something tickle at the back of his head before a sudden wave of pleasure rolled over him, unsure as to how it was possible, he felt his blood pump south, his shaft rising as another wave of remarkable pleasure slammed into him, bringing him over the edge as well.*******

Spock collapsed on top of him, breaths ragged, his eyes half-lidded and dazed. Jim panted, his body screamed in agony, darkness steadily eating away at his vision. Not knowing the damage he was dealt, he lied there unmoving, feeling Spock's chest rise and fall with each breath. Jim didn't know what had just happened, or if this had been a part of what Spock had to accomplish, but he was suddenly aware of the consistent buzzing noise in his head, it was a bit annoying, and he prayed it was only an aftereffect of the brutal sex he had just endured.

"Jim." Spock said weakly, rising his head, his eyes no longer filled with savage lust. "I…am sorry."

Tears stung at Jim's eyes from the remorse in Spock's voice, he shut them quickly to keep the expression of devastation on Spock's face from his sight. Drained and in excruciating amount of pain, Jim strained to whisper with his bruised throat as the tears flowed down his face again, "I love you."

* * *

**A/N: So sorry for all the waiting! I'll try to update quicker! Thank you for reading and please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thank you so much for 100+ follows! And thank you for all the reviews!**

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Spock upheld a distressing silence after days of repeated abuse, only speaking in order to aid Jim in mundane tasks such as bathing and eating whilst he was absent of strength. Jim felt like hell. Every muscle ached immensely; his skin had a vast array of bandages clinging to it, and was incredibly fatigued—if he wasn't eating, he was sleeping, or enduring round after round of brutal sex.

Jim slumped in the chair at the table, picking at the replicated salad with his fork, feeling a bit queasy.

"You must replenish your strength, you require nutrition."

Jim sighed, "Is that your subtle way of telling me to eat?"

Spock's robes hung loosely over his body, his hands threaded in front of him as he scrutinized Jim with an impassive stare. He was pretty certain that his own appearance was nowhere near the perfection of Spock's—unflawed, absent of lesions and bruises. Jim had grown accustomed to being handled so roughly with the years of street brawls under his belt, his stepfather, acknowledging those were the possible reasons he had endured this long. He shuddered at the thought of how Uhura would've handled it.

_Uhura._

Damn, how was he going to make amends? He was pretty positive the whole, "I'm sorry I fucked your boyfriend, but I love him, can we still be friends?" probably wouldn't work. She most likely hated him and he wouldn't begrudge her of that notion, but something nagged at him. Though he could care less about how others viewed him, there was an unease gnawing at him. He didn't want her to hate him; he didn't want to lose her friendship.

"Yes." Spock replied, "It would be detrimental to your health if you do not."

Jim placed his elbow onto the table before burying his face into his hand, wincing from the pain of his stiff muscles, "I'm not really hungry."

After a palpable pause, there was a swish of cloth before heated fingers lightly touched the skin at the back of his hand, causing him to jerk slightly from the sudden contact. Jim's heart raced, the irritating buzzing in his head returning.

"Please, Jim." He said gently.

Jim sighed heavily, "Alright, but only if first you _finally_ enlighten me to what the hell happened the last few days?"

The fingers fell away.

"Very well."

Jim glanced up to find Spock had straightened, his eyes fixated on Jim, an emotion flickering deep within the dark depths. Several silent moments passed and Jim started to grow impatient, eyes narrowing toward the Vulcan suspiciously.

"Well?" He huffed.

"We have bonded."

He snorted, "I already figured that out."

The Vulcan's head ticked to the side as an eyebrow arched quizzically.

"May I inquire to how you obtained this knowledge?"

Jim paused.

_Damn, should I tell him that Uhura told me? Would that be weird? Was she even allowed to tell me? Would there be consequences for her actions?_

_I did not instruct her to inform you, Jim. However, as you are involved, her actions are justified. _

Jim bolted from his seat as Spock's voice blared through his head. Forgetting momentarily about his depleted strength, his legs gave way and watched as the floor rushed up to meet him as he careened sideways, landing with a loud thud. He hissed from the pain of his injuries, and in an instant, the Vulcan had slid from his chair and rounded the table, kneeling beside him, face contorted with concern.

"Are you all right, Jim?"

Jim shook his head, allowing the Vulcan to assist him into a sitting position before placing his hand against his head, dazed.

"H-how did you….how is this….wha—?" He bumbled as he strained to wrap his head around the concept that Spock had just spoke to him inside his own mind.

"Be calm, Jim." He soothed, "I did not intend to startle you."

"How…how did you _do _that?" He exclaimed, eyes widening with amazement, fear.

"Allow me to aid you from the floor, then I will promptly inform you."

Too stunned to speak, he nodded his approval. Strong arms slid beneath his knees and behind his back, cradling him gently against the Vulcan's chest. Jim relished in the heat of his body, soothing his aching muscles as he laid his head in the crook of his neck, listening to his soft even breaths. The Vulcan hoisted him up from the floor and carried him with ease to the bed. Expecting to be placed onto it from the predictable pattern of the last several days, he was struck with shock as Spock descended upon it, still cradling him in his lap.

"Uh, Spock?" He flushed as the Vulcan slipped his hand from beneath his knees to caress the side of his face.

Spock thawed; his face softening as he stared down at Jim.

"Forgive me, I did not intend for this to happen."

Jim furrowed his eyebrows.

"Intend for _what _to happen?" He inquired warily. "What happened with Uhura?"

Spock stiffened briefly.

"She proved to be an unsuited mate."

Now Jim was confused, he stared at him incredulously.

"How?"

"Her mind was incompatible with mine." He stated flatly, eyes averting away. "Additionally, a bond had inadvertently formed prior to this ritual."

"What do you mean by that?"

Spock let out a slow breath, the muscles underneath his skin clenching.

_We have successfully joined our minds, thus the reason I am able to speak to you in this manner. It was present prior to the ritual and was essentially the cause of Nyota's departure. I assure you, Jim, it was accidental and I would begrudge you the option of dissolving the connection if you desire to._

Jim blinked, his mind sluggishly processing the information.

"We're…connected? You mean connected like a marriage?"

Spock flinched slightly.

"Not quite, it extends to a depth that is of the metaphysical level. We are mated and this connection will remain intact for the remainder of our life spans, unless deemed otherwise." He said softly, avoiding Jim's gaze. "I am sorry."

Jim gaped at him, "You said this was unintentional, why are you apologizing?"

Spock whipped his head back, eyes widening in surprise.

"You are not angered?"

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, I'm angry, but not for _this _reason." The ever predictable eyebrow ascended again as a puzzled expression washed over the Vulcan's face, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Jim. "I'm _angry _about how you've treated Uhura and me. I didn't know who you were going to choose and the mind games were fucking _ridiculous_. Then I find out you chose Uhura— which I guess is the most logical decision seeing as she could possibly help repopulate your race and I can't—but—"

He was abruptly cut off as heated lips crashed into his, Spock's hand gliding up from his back to grasp the back of his head, deepening the kiss. It was not as forceful as the kisses he endured over the last few days, this was tender, passionate, and Jim melted into it. Something flickered to life and burned comfortably at the back of his skull, enveloping him in an indescribable warmth. It flooded over him, feeling the sharp twinges of pain in his body fade to a dull ache, reality suddenly eluding his grasp.

The world spun as the lips disconnected, a cold loneliness lingering where they once were. The pad of Spock's thumb traced gently over Jim's lower lip, eyes burning with an immense desire other than lust.

"You are correct, Jim. I did choose her as a logical mate. However, my obligations to my race blinded me of a crucial development." He whispered tenderly.

"And that is?" Jim's voice lowered to a hoarse whisper, his heart leaping into his throat.

"That I am able to reciprocate your affections, _T'hy'la._"

_There's that strange word again_. He thought bemused as he blinked slowly again, registering the Vulcan's words.

"Wait. Are you telling me that…you love me?" He whispered incredulously.

The Vulcan's mouth twitched slightly at the side.

"I am."

Jim stared, stunned. All time at that moment froze. The only reassurance that he was conscious and this wasn't a dream was the thudding of his heart against his chest. He fumbled for the words, his mind jumbled with Spock's confession and the enormous amount of information that had been given to him, groping clumsily to form a coherent sentence.

"Spo—"

Before he could finish, a loud knock blared from the door, eliciting another startled jerk from Jim. The Vulcan placed him gently onto the bed before striding across the room, releasing the door to reveal two burly security guards from the _Enterprise_. Jim shakily rose to a sitting position, fear steadily welling inside him.

"What is your purpose of this intrusion?" Spock spat and Jim's eyebrows hiked from the hostility in his voice.

"Under penalty of court martial, you are to grant us entrance on the grounds of the warranted arrest of Captain James Tiberius Kirk." He stated firmly.

"What are the charges?" Spock quickly inquired, eyes narrowing.

"That is classified under protection of the Federation until a sentence has been rendered."

Jim swallowed thickly; he knew what the charges pertained to. Although, he didn't understand why the admiralty were keeping it classified. Nearly the whole crew knew he had defied direct orders. What was their reasoning?

"I will escort him to the _Enterprise_ momentarily, he is injured."

"That is not permitted. We are under direct orders of Admiral Bullock to obtain the prisoner." He retorted and Jim watched as the Vulcan's hand clenched tightly.

Without another word, the two guards marched in. As they approached the bed where Jim—thankfully dressed in a robe—was sitting, they regarded him with silent remorse.

"Forgive us, sir, but you need to come with us."

He nodded solemnly, "I understand."

The guard reached down, clasping his hand tightly around Jim's arm, causing a spike of pain to shoot through it and he cried out. There was a sudden gasp as a pale hand latched onto the man's wrist, squeezing with such force that his hand impulsively loosened its grip.

"Commander Spock, release my hand." He ordered, glaring at the Vulcan whose eyes returned an icy gaze.

"You are harming him." He growled, the tone sending shivers down Jim's spine.

"Commander Spock, if you interfere we will be forced to place charges upon you." The man warned.

"Spock." Jim said gently, regaining the Vulcan's attention. "Stand down, it's all right."

The Vulcan deflated, relinquishing his iron hold on the man's wrist, allowing him to pull Jim clumsily to his feet. Yanking his arms roughly behind his back, they attached handcuffs to his wrists, the metal biting into his bruised flesh, and he winced. They latched onto the crook of each arm and silently began to half drag him through the door.

_Jim, I will contemplate a way to aid you. I will not allow any grievances to befall you._

Jim smiled slightly as he stumbled his way back through the long stretch of hallway.

_I know you will._

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading and please review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"Dammit, just let me _see _him."

"We cannot allow it."

Jim leaned against the cool metal wall of the cell, his hands still bound behind him, the guards' broad backs blocking his view of Bones. He had to give the man props; he was incredibly persistent, badgering the guards for more than an hour but to no avail. Jim was perched on the bench inside, listening to the doctor bark insults at them. They were good men, following their orders to a T, but they couldn't comprehend the degree of the doctor's stubbornness. Jim would know, he'd spent enough time around the man.

"I'm his doctor and I heard he's injured. Now let me see him or I _swear_ I'll report you for mistreatment of a prisoner aboard a Star Ship." He growled.

There was a palpable silence before a guard shifted uncomfortably and replied, "Alright, you have five minutes."

The men shuffled away from the brig, allowing the doctor to release the glass and step inside before a guard quickly sealed the cell behind him.

"Jesus, Jim, what the hell happened to you?" McCoy's eyes ghosted over his battered form and Jim issued a small reassuring smile.

"Would you believe me if I say I tripped?" He quipped, eliciting a dark look from the doctor. "Sorry."

The man shook his head, flipping out his tricorder silently before taking a few strides over to Jim, waving the device over Jim's frame.

"Lacerations, a small amount of internal bleeding, bruises, sprains…" He mumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowing, "Dammit, what the hell did you do...get into a fist match with the entire Vulcan race?"

Jim let out a harsh laugh and winced, "It sure feels that way."

Bones sighed as he fumbled inside his bag and produced a shiny hypo, waving it tauntingly in front of Jim's face, smirking slightly as Jim groaned. The doctor reached out, jamming the hypo into the crook of his neck, eliciting a long string of curses from Jim.

"Don't be such an infant." Bones chided, gently peeling away the top of the robe to observe the bandaging. "I hope whatever happened down there was worth this. Court martial is serious, Jim." He said softly, hazel eyes glancing up to Jim's face, concerned.

"I'll be all right."

McCoy sighed.

"I sure hope so, kid. I swear if this goes south, I'm going to have a few choice words with that pointy-eared computer." He grumbled, eyes widening in emphasis.

Jim chuckled, "Thanks for looking out for me, Bones."

The man let out an aggravated snort, "Yeah, well, not like I have anything better to do."

* * *

"_Attention, this is Captain Sulu. We are currently fifteen minutes out from Earth's orbit. Please make the necessary arrangements for departure. Sulu out."_

Jim sighed heavily.

_This is it._

The guards released the glass, stepping inside to replace their hands onto his arms. Jim complied, silently allowing them to aid him to his feet and guide him out of the cell and into the corridors. Ensigns watched curiously as they maneuvered through the ship, whispers erupting over the hustle and bustle of the crew. Heat crept up Jim's neck and leaked into his face, for the first time in his life he felt truly embarrassed.

The youngest Captain, Starfleet's golden boy—court martialed.

This was not his finest hour.

Jim straightened, head held high as they marched him from the lift toward the shuttle bay. As they entered, Ensigns watched timidly as he was guided toward the craft specifically made for prisoner transfers. They clambered inside and he was placed in the tiny cell at the back of the craft, sliding down onto the bench as they sealed him in, thoughts wandering to Spock.

He felt numb by the time the ship had docked. The shuttle rattled violently as the engines were ignited, feeling the floor tremble under his feet as the thrusters lifted them from the platform. Would this be the last time he'd be aboard the _Enterprise_? Would this be the last time he'd be aboard _any _Star Ship?

_You saved his life, isn't that worth it?_

He sighed, it was worth it. Spock was alive, and he loved him. The only question lingering in the air was would he be imprisoned for life? Would he ever see his Vulcan again?

Jim smiled.

_Since when did he become "my" Vulcan?_

Jim wasn't certain to the whereabouts of Spock, but he trusted that he wouldn't abandon him. Time seemed to elude him as he thought of the Vulcan. A small sense of reassurance trickled through the fear momentarily before he felt the shuttle lurch forward, indicating they were about to land. His fate belonged to Starfleet now. All he was capable of doing was waiting.

* * *

The light flickered, buzzing loudly in the enclosed space and was incredibly irritating as he lied on the cot in his cell. The grey prisoner's uniform was double his structure causing the shirt to ride up to reveal his navel that was surrounded by angry purple bruises. The bandages had been tossed once he'd entered the prison, the doctor on duty attended to his wounds, healing them before he was processed and booked, muttering how astounding it was for the captain of the _Enterprise_ to be there and Jim was inclined to agree.

It wasn't the first time he'd been to jail, countless bar fights tended to involve the authorities and Jim failed miserably at feigning innocence, especially while intoxicated. However, this time had an erroneous feel to it. He did defy orders; however, it was for the better interest of the crew—mainly his First Officer. It was to save his life, not for Jim's own personal gain. Surely they could see passed it?

"Hey." A brusque voice echoed, causing Jim to whip his head to see the guard looming at the entrance of the cell. "Get up, you have a visitor."

"Really?" Jim inquired incredulously, bolting up from the cot, "Aren't visiting hours almost over?"

The man growled, irritated.

"I don't like smartasses." He stated fiercely, "And I certainly don't like pretty boys who think they're hot shit for being the golden prodigy of Starfleet."

_Well, isn't he a barrel full of fun?_

Jim smirked, "Guess I can cross your name off my guest list, huh?"

The guard crossed his arms, large masses of muscles rippling beneath his exposed skin. From the structure of his build, it was evident he could easily flatten Jim with a single punch. He was intimidating and he wanted Jim to be aware of it.

"I'll send the visitor away." He threatened, turning to leave.

"No wait!" Jim stumbled onto his feet, flinging himself towards the entrance, clutching his oversized pants to keep them from slipping. "I'll see them."

The man grunted, glaring as he released the barrier to the cell.

"Extend your arms." He demanded, and Jim complied, wincing as the man clasped the handcuffs onto his wrists none-too-gently. "Move."

Jim nodded, flashing him a smile that elicited an aggravated crease on the man's brow. He knew how to prod just enough to pester, and it was an incredibly simple task to do with the guard. Bones would disapprove, but he figured he'd have a little fun while he was trapped here. Jim moved from the cell and once again was marched down a long stretch of hall until he was shoved into a cramped room, the walls aligned with _comm. _systems and had only one other prisoner present speaking with his own visitor. The systems were used to keep prisoners from speaking directly to their visitors, a punishment to have their loved ones close but not close enough.

"Station number two, you have twenty minutes." The guard pointed to his left and Jim strolled over to it, plopping down in the chair before connecting the call. The screen flickered for a moment before he was struck with the sight of two familiar dark eyes. His heart pounded in his chest, muscles constricting in his throat.

"Spock!"

The eyes ghosted over his features, analyzing him carefully, a pained expression fleeting over his pale face.

"_Jim, are you well?"_

He snorted, rolling his eyes at the question, "Yeah, Spock, just peachy. In fact, it's like a five star hotel in here." He exaggerated, "I'm okay as I _can _be, I guess. I'm making new _friends_ already." Taking a fleeting glance to the ever so friendly guard who stood a few feet behind him, he leaned in closer to the screen, "Have you heard anything about my trial yet?"

"_It will be held at o-nine-hundred hours. That is the extent of my knowledge."_ Spock stated matter-of-factly.

Jim let out an audible breath, "Fantastic." He muttered.

There was a palpable pause before Spock spoke softly.

"_My apologies for your predicament, Jim, it is my fault."_

Jim gawked at him briefly.

"It was _my _decision to defy orders! This was in no way _your _fault. You didn't have control over this, and Bullock has had it out for me since the Kobayashi Maru! This was inevitable!"

Spock remained silent for a few moments before nodding curtly.

"_I see. I will still endeavor to provide proof to aid you."_

Jim sighed, bringing his bound hands up to his face to rub at his temples.

"I appreciate this, Spock, but what kind of proof can you provide? I don't think the Admiralty is willing to be open-minded about the cultural necessity and why I was required to be the one to help you." He inhaled a shaky breath as fear crashed down upon him, tears stinging his eyes, "They're keeping this confidential. I think they have more dirt on me than they're letting on and I don't think the odds are on my side for this. I could be locked away in here for the remainder of my life!" Jim averted his eyes away from the screen, "I could be taken away from you."

"You have three minutes remaining." The brusque voice blared through the semi-silent room, the announcement sending a small amount of panic through him.

"_Ashayam."_ Spock's voice gently floated over the speaker and Jim turned to meet the dark depths of his eyes again. _"Do not fear. I assure you I will be diligent toward your defense." _A pale hand reached for the screen as his voice echoed inside Jim's skull.

_I cherish thee, T'hy'la._

Jim reached for the pale hand on the screen awkwardly from the cuffs, the pads of his fingers tracing over the cool glass.

"I love you too." He whispered, seeing a small flicker of emotion behind the dark eyes before the transmission was abruptly cut, the stations automatically powering down.

"Times up." The guard declared.

Jim's fingers slipped away from the screen, a single tear escaping from his eye, trailing steadily down his cheek.

"Yeah." Jim said quietly, "I know."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for all your patience! And thank you for reading and please review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Jim's eyelids felt like lead as he fought to stay conscious.

The night consisted of constant nightmares, his subconscious fears twisting his dreams into toxic scenarios. After several hours of attempting to sleep, he surrendered, forcing himself to stay awake for the duration of the night. Although, as the lights flickered on in the cellblock to indicate the start of a new day, he steadily began to regret his decision. Jim felt lethargic, body begging to rest. God, he was tired—hardly having any time for recuperation since the ritual on _New Vulcan_.

"On your feet." The familiar brusque voice blared over the silence.

Jim groaned, sluggishly rising from the cot, feverishly rubbing at his raw eyes.

"What time is it?" He croaked.

"It's time to eat." The man responded, arms folded over his chest, animosity radiating from his form.

Jim grinned bitterly, "I thought you didn't care for smartasses?"

"I don't." The guard retorted, "Never said anything about me being one. Did I?"

Jim had to admit, the man had him there.

"No, guess you didn't." Jim laughed cynically, "A bit hypocritical though, wouldn't you say?"

He remained silent, the weight of his stare pressing down upon Jim.

"What's wrong?" Jim goaded, sliding from the cot before sauntering over toward the barrier. "Can't handle it when someone calls you out on your bullshit? That's must be rough." He chuckled.

The guard bristled, hands gripping his arms until the knuckles glowed white.

"I heard you have a big mouth." He sneered, "Thought having your ass handed to you by a Vulcan would've taught you to keep it shut." He spat, glowering.

Jim's smirk expanded. So the man knew his history.

_Interesting. _

"Nah, it didn't. But then again, I've never backed down from a challenge. I can't say much about you though. You'd probably be made their bitch so fast, you wouldn't even know what hit you, huh, _Tiny_?" Jim knew he was treading in dangerous waters. His nerves unraveled as he was itching to relieve the tension he'd been enduring through the night.

Tiny growled, "I hope they slaughter you at the trial, lock your smug ass here for the rest of your days." He smiled coldly, "See how long your bravado lasts while weeping for your beloved Vulcan as you rot away." Taking a half step toward the barrier, he whispered lowly, "I'll break you, just like the rest."

Jim stilled, a red-hot rage pulsating through his body, his hands clenching. The urge to fight overwhelmed him, envisioning his fists colliding with the man's face to demonstrate that he harbored no weaknesses. Tiny's face steadily morphed into that of his stepfather before him, the smirk becoming the man's Jim had detested for over half his life. He'd show him that he wasn't the terrified, weak little boy anymore—attempting suicide by driving off cliffs. He'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

Jim took a daunting step forward, opening his mouth to utter the words he knew would drive the man to release the barrier and strike him.

_Jim._

He halted, the red haze in his vision receding slightly, heart pounding at his temples. His mouth closed, hands flexing as the fingers uncurled stiffly from his palms.

_Calm, T'hy'la. _

Jim inhaled a shaky breath, the tension ebbing marginally.

"Are you going to just stand there a mock me for the next few hours, or am I allowed to eat at some point?" Jim grounded out through gritted teeth.

Tiny issued a triumphant smirk.

"Usually, prisoners are required to eat in the mess hall, but I think I'll have you stay here." The smirk turned into a devilish smile as he pivoted and marched from his cell.

Jim cursed under his breath as he dragged his feet back to the cot. He wasn't sure how this whole telepathic—speak to each other in the mind deal worked. Obviously, Spock was an expert at it and he'd have to pester him later about how he could return the communication. Was it simply just "thinking" or was there a certain trick to it?

Tiny surprisingly returned moments later with a tray, slipping it through the mobile port on the side of the cell, placing it gently onto the floor.

"Bon appetite." He chuckled before vanishing from view.

Jim hesitated before shuffling over to the tray, bending down to examine its contents. The platter held a sandwich smothered in peanut butter, a bowl of nearly expired strawberries and kiwi placed unconcernedly beside it. The rage that had receded returned with a vengeance. He snatched up the tray that held his most fatal food allergies and heaved it at the glass barrier, the clatter and bangs of the metal ringing in his ears as it echoed against the walls of the enclosed space.

It was clear Tiny's threat to break him was credited.

* * *

Jim's form trembled. Between sleep deprivation and an empty stomach, his body responded negatively. He felt weak, mind succumbing to the consistent thoughts to replenish itself while acknowledging that he was required to focus on the pending trial ahead. The right state of mind was far from reach—thoughts hyperactive. Jim realized this could cripple his defense; prove to the Admiralty that he was unfit.

"It's time." Tiny announced, face deadpanned, surrounded by two large guards. "Step away from the barrier and extend your arms." He demanded.

Jim glanced fleetingly between the three guards, an invisible knot forming at the pit of his stomach. Paling as he complied, rough hands gripping his wrists tight enough to bruise before the cold metal of the cuffs bit into his skin. Tiny bent, hastily latching shackles around his ankles. The shackles attached to a foot of chain, binding the two together, restricting his ability to move.

The invisible knot coiled into a tighter ball as he was guided from the cell and down a long stretch of hallway until they reached two steel doors. One of the guards maneuvered around Tiny, keying in the access code diligently, stepping away as the pad beeped for clearance of access. The doors hissed open, revealing an expanse of a dimly lit tunnel.

"Forward." Tiny shoved him and he quickened his pace, the chains rattling and clanking as he marched forward at an awkward rate. His fatigued body protested with each step, stomach growling loudly in the silence, heart rate increasing as they steadily approached the end, fear flooding through him.

A hum of whispers and murmurs blared in his ears as the doors hissed open to a cramped, crowded courtroom. He scuffled inside, startled as the noise abruptly died, silence draping over the space as hundreds of eyes scrutinized him with simultaneous emotions. His eyes fleetingly assessed the crowd, heart clenching when he was unable to pinpoint any pale impassive faces with dark discernible haircuts. Approaching the table of the defense side, he collapsed onto the chair in silent defeat.

Spock wasn't there.

_He's abandoned me._

The whispers and murmurs quickly picked up as footsteps pounded lightly beside him, a swish of cloth indicating someone had arrived at his table. He glanced up warily, meeting the man's astonished gaze before glancing over his features. His suit was in disarray, large books coated in a thick layer of dust clutched haphazardly in his arms. Jim returned the gaze, stunned. This couldn't be…

"Mr. Kirk, my name is Samuel T. Cogley. I have been assigned as your defense attorney." He stated feebly, dropping the pile of books onto the table.

Jim gawked at him. He had heard rumors of this man. Cogley's success rate was slim, his methods unorthodox as he consistently refused to use any and all forms of technology. The man was deemed a lunatic, hauling himself in his home, barely emerging if only for court.

"You've got to be kidding me." Jim scoffed.

Cogley flinched, hesitating before sliding into the adjacent seat.

"No, sir, I'm not." He issued a half-hearted smile.

"Who hired you?" Jim demanded, anger sheltering the staggering fear.

"Oh, who was it again?" Cogley's stout fingers rubbed feverishly at the stubble on his chin, his eyes glazed over as he pondered, "You know, maybe it was…no that was that other case."

What little remained of Jim's hopes diminished quickly as he watched the man fumble for the correct memory.

"Ah, yes! Now I remember—that Vulcan fellow. Told him I was retiring, but he insisted my services and seemed a bit distressed….very unusual for his type." Cogley mumbled, arranging the books into a small pile. "Told me I'd be defending Starfleet's youngest captain—said it'd be a noble cause. However, you can imagine my doubts considering your reputation."

Jim released a flustered sigh. What had Spock been thinking when he chose to hire him?

"Yeah. I can only imagine." Jim muttered, sinking lower into his chair as the prosecutor strolled into the courtroom, her eyes zeroing in on his deflated frame.

She glared briefly before striding toward her table, tapping feverishly at the PADD clutched in her hand. Jim's body stilled, eyes fixated, fear leaking through the shield of anger. Areel Shaw, his ex-girlfriend who had pursued law before he had attended the Academy, dumping him as she deemed him unworthy and unable to strive for an ambition. Now he was Starfleet's prodigy, Captain of the _USS Enterprise_—or at least _was_ captain—and saved Earth on multiple occasions.

The side of his mouth twitched as he fought back the smile.

_Well, that must have stung a bit. Who's unworthy now?_

Cogley whistled softly as he leaned in towards Jim's face, a repugnant aroma emanating from his form.

"She's got daggers for you, kid. You know her?"

Jim swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, I do." He replied, averting his gaze from her.

The man's eyes darted hastily between Jim and the other attorney, a small flicker of acknowledgement gleaming in his amber eyes.

"Ah, say no more." Scrubbing his fingers along the stubble again, he meekly stated, "This might be a problem."

"_Might _be a problem?" Jim exclaimed, beginning to feel woozy.

Cogley was about to retort when a loud voice declared, "All rise."

Jim pushed to his feet, swaying slightly as the Admiralty filed inside, the room falling into an eerie silence. Once they had found their assigned seating, the plaintiffs and audience were ordered to sit and Jim hesitantly complied, even with every fiber of his being begging him to bolt.

"Case number 1183903: Starfleet versus _Captain _James Tiberius Kirk."

_Spock. _Jim thought frantically, heart pounding intensely against his chest. _Where are you?_

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: And so it begins…**

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"_Case number 1183903: Starfleet versus Captain James Tiberius Kirk."_

"Please state the charges." Bullock stated, scrutinizing Jim with a dark look.

The woman announcing cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably, "The charges include: violating direct orders, unauthorized leave and abandonment of a Federation vessel, negligence and endangerment of subordinates in one's charge, and inappropriate fraternization with the appointed First Officer."

Jim paled. He'd been right; there were more charges than he anticipated. Charges he was going to have difficulty proving innocent—or at least justified. Sinking lower in his chair, he swallowed thickly, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt nervously. Only now acknowledging the large line of cameras pointed in his direction. They were filming this as a live stream, could this get any worse?

Cogley leaned over, murmuring softly; "You really did _all _of that?"

Jim scoffed at him, bewildered, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be on _my_ side? Isn't that the whole reason for you _defending _me?" He snapped.

"Sorry." Cogley issued a sympathetic smile, "Just curious."

"Would the prosecution commence their opening statement?" Bullock spoke as the other Admirals' eyes focused upon Shaw as she ascended from her chair.

"I am here today to prove that not only is Mr. Kirk guilty of these charges, but also to deem him as unfit for any possible redemption toward a command setting." She stated, head held high, one arm at the small of her back as the other swung around in emphasis. "I will prove with gathered evidence that Mr. Kirk has chosen willingly to defy orders and proceed with decisions that have been proved reckless and dangerous. That is all." Nodding, she quickly descended onto her chair, crossing her legs confidently.

"Thank you, and now the defense may make an opening statement." Bullock ticked his head to the side, gesturing for them to begin.

Cogley jerked and uttered a quiet "Oh" before clumsily rising from his seat, knocking it backwards, landing on the ground with a loud thud. Clearing his throat he stated, "The defense does not desire to give an opening statement."

"Very well, prosecution may begin."

As Cogley retrieved the chair, placing it upright, Jim leaned over toward him and hissed, "What the hell? What do you mean we don't desire to give an opening statement?"

Nodding curtly, he replied, "Don't worry, I have this handled."

If it were at all possible for any more blood to drain from his face, he was sure it had happened just then, "That's not very reassuring."

They were cut off as Shaw rounded her table, approaching the center of the courtroom to address the Admiralty.

"Prosecution calls Doctor Leonard McCoy to the stand."

Jim whipped his head around in time to see Bones rise from the crowd. How had he not noticed him? His face was pale as he sauntered forward, glancing toward Jim, issuing a non-committal shrug as he approached the stand. Sliding into the booth, he briskly sat, scrutinizing Shaw with an indignant stare.

"Please state your name, rank, and posting for the record as you have already been sworn in."

Bones released an aggravated huff, "Doctor Leonard H. McCoy: Lieutenant-Commander, and Chief Medical Officer aboard the _U.S.S Enterprise_." He muttered.

"Thank you." Shaw stated, pacing before him, "How long have you personally known Mr. Kirk?"

"Since the Academy…approximately five years ago."

She smiled, "I see, and how long have you worked under his command?"

Bones rolled his eyes at the question, "Isn't that on record somewhere?"

"The witness will answer the question." Bullock demanded, glaring toward the doctor.

"Fine, dammit, approximately two years." He spat.

She smiled, "I see, and how would you describe him?"

"Personally or professionally?" he retorted, eyes narrowing.

"Both."

"Personally, he is a stubborn, cocky, hot-headed mule who really grates on my nerves." He groused, eyes widening in emphasis, "And professionally, he is a confident leader who may be a real moron at times, but he manages to do the right thing, regardless of how unorthodox it may seem."

She paused, "Doctor McCoy, you claim he is 'hot-headed', do you imply that he has a temper?"

"The whole damn planet knows he has a temper, what of it?" Bones retorted bitterly.

"Has it ever affected his decisions while in command?" She inquired curiously.

"There have been a few instances, but like I _said, _in the end he manages to do the right thing."

"But only in the end, correct Doctor?" When Bones remained silent she continued, glancing down at the PADD in her hand, "First Officer…I can't really pronounce the last name, but first name Spock, filed a report about Mr. Kirk's mental breakdown just a few short weeks ago. From the report, he became intoxicated even with a shift the following day and damaged Starfleet property in his private quarters, thus prompting a required physical and psychiatric test conducted by your person. Is this information correct?"

Bones released an audible breath, "Yeah, that's correct, but he passed both tests."

"Yes he did." She reiterated, "However, he was still placed on temporary parole as a precautionary measure, since there have been previous records of his misconduct while attending Starfleet Academy. Were you aware of these records?"

"I'm his physician; I have access to all of his medical files. Of course I was aware!" He spat, face tinting a pale red.

"Then as a medical professional, do you believe he was making critical decisions influenced by emotions or do you believe it was a psychological disorder?"

"Dammit, he doesn't _have _a psychological disorder!"

"Yes, as you have claimed he passed his psychiatric test. So, logically we are in agreement that he allowed his emotions to influence his command—setting coordinates to _New Vulcan_ instead of _Janus VI_?"

Jim was becoming irritated at the scene playing before him. Shaw pursued law for a reason; she possessed the capability to turn her victims in circles until they were blue in the face and still manage to receive the condemning information. Jim had been caught in her web several times and it was damn near impossible to escape it.

"I don't believe so, no."

"You were aware of Mr. Kirk's affections for Mr. Spock, were you not? After all, you did state them in your report for Admiral Bullock. Is that correct?"

"I didn't state anything about it being Spock!" Bones jerked after the words spilled out, a mortified expression falling over his features as gasps filled the air of the cramped space.

She smiled, "No further questions."

Bullock gestured towards Jim's table, "You may cross-examine the witness now."

"We have no questions." Cogley stated hastily and Jim gawked at him.

"What the _hell _are you doing?" Jim hissed, watching as Bones was dismissed, shuffling from the stand, staring blankly ahead—shocked.

Cogley remained silent, reaching for a book and opening it, flipping through its contents nonchalantly. Jim stared at him incredulously, stunned at his total disregard for Jim's impending sentence.

_I'm doomed._

"Prosecution calls Lieutenant Nyota Uhura to the stand."

Jim stilled at the name, heart leaping into his throat. They hadn't had a chance to converse over the current events, she had been pissed the last time she saw him. Was she capable of holding a grudge?

_Shit!_

She traipsed up to the stand, stating the requirements as Bones had, averting her gaze from Jim.

"Lieutenant, how long have you known Mr. Kirk?"

"For approximately two years." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I see, and how long have you known Commander Spock?"

"He was a professor at the Academy; I've known him since I was a Cadet."

Shaw paced before her, scrolling through her PADD, humming softly.

"Lieutenant, is it correct to say Mr. Spock and Mr. Kirk have a close relationship? Considering the record that states that Mr. Kirk breached the prime directive to rescue Mr. Spock from an active Volcano on _Nibiru_?"

A dark look crossed her face as she replied blandly, "Yes, I would say they are close."

Shaw nodded, "Lieutenant, we have records stating that you and Mr. Spock requested shore leave for a similar amount of time on _New Vulcan_, and were both approved, correct?"

"Yes."

"May I inquire as to why you and Mr. Spock were the only two allowed this odd request?"

She sighed, "It was for a cultural ritual that I have no authorization to discuss."

Shaw's head ticked to the side, "Mr. Kirk had stated it was a matter of life and death? Surely, you can explain as to why this was of high importance?"

"I can't." She stated bleakly.

Clearing her throat, Shaw continued, "If this was of importance between you and Mr. Spock, why was Mr. Kirk's presence required over yours?"

"I don't know." She spat, eyes narrowing towards Jim.

"Lieutenant, do you believe there is a romantic relationship between Mr. Kirk and Mr. Spock?"

Jim's heart stilled, holding his breath, a pressure building in his chest.

"I don't know." She finally stated.

"I would like to rephrase the question, is there a possibility from what you have observed that there _may_ be a romantic relationship between the two of them?"

"It's a possibility." She sighed.

Shaw issued another smile, "Thank you Lieutenant, I have no further questions."

Bullock glanced over toward the defense side, "Do you wish to cross-examine?"

"We do not."

Jim released a disgruntled sound, running his bound hands angrily through his hair. This was maddening; the odds were definitely not in his favor. And his defense attorney was doing everything _but _defending him. He felt defeated, tired. No…he felt extremely tired, the world was spinning, his focus fuzzy. Suddenly his equilibrium shifted, a heat flared over his body.

_Ashayam._ The voice echoed in his skull.

"Spock…" he whispered, suddenly careening sideways, sliding off the chair before his head connected with the ground. Stars illuminated his vision briefly before darkness abruptly swept him under.

* * *

**A/N: Tiny should have let him eat. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Thank you so much for 150+ follows! Truly, I am honored by the amount of readers. You are all amazing and your support helps push me through writer's blocks. **

* * *

**Chapter 20**

A roar erupted around him, forcefully tugging him from the peaceful darkness, eyes fluttering open only to squint immediately as a bright light shone directly above him. A bleary image of unfamiliar man dressed in a white medic's coat leaned over him, a warm hand slapping the flesh of his cheek. The chaos around him blared through the room, somewhere in the mingled voices he heard Bones protesting to allow someone to release him—to allow him access to Jim.

"He's coming around." The man's voice rose above the crowd as he leaned in closer, "Can you see me?"

Jim nodded, wincing as a spike of pain exploded in his skull.

"Good, now, can you tell me your name?"

Sluggishly, the wheels in his brain turned, struggling to concentrate through the pandemonium, "Jim Kirk."

"Right." He nodded, "Do you know where you are?"

"The courthouse?"

"Yes." The man issued a small smile, "It appears you don't have a concussion, although we still want to run a few tests later as a precaution."

"Silence!" The brusque voice of Bullock rang out, "Order in the courtroom! I said _silence_!" The room settled instantly; the chaos dying down as the doctor aided Jim slowly into a sitting position—groaning from the aching in his head. "Are you able to continue Mr. Kirk?" He inquired, acrimony underlining his tone.

Jim inhaled a shaky breath, glancing over the doctor's shoulder to Bones who had been restrained by a bailiff, concern contorting his features. He could feel the weight of the cameras trained at his backside and the audience's eyes bearing down upon him. Although he truly felt shaken, and possibly a bit queasy, he realized that it was now or never to reveal the reason he had earned his title. He was James Tiberius Kirk—the man who won't back down, tough as nails, proving without a shadow of a doubt he could be knocked down then get right back up—even after enduring a swift beating from a Vulcan—though he wouldn't admit that out loud.

He was the _Captain _of the _Enterprise_.

This injury was insignificant.

"Yeah." He issued a non-committal shrug, "No problem."

"Jim!" Bones called, spitting through gritted teeth, "Don't be a damn fool!"

Jim grinned, waving away the medic as he fell to all fours before staggering to his feet, the metal of the cuffs biting into his wrists painfully. He was jittery, trembling as he regained his bearings with the medic hovering close beside him. A tricorder whirred over his frame hastily before the medic reached into his metal suitcase on the table, producing a shiny hypo.

"I don't need it." Jim protested weakly.

"Your blood sugar levels are extremely low. Unless you feel like becoming acquainted with the floor again, Mr. Kirk, I suggest you allow me to administer this." He groused, and the tone eerily reminded him of Bones.

Did every Starfleet physician major in sarcasm?

"Fine." He spat through gritted teeth, jerking as the man injected it into the crook of his neck.

"Good luck." He issued a lopsided grin as he latched the suitcase, striding from the room.

"Mr. Kirk, if you would have a seat in order for this trial to continue." Bullock stated—it wasn't a question.

Jim nodded in acknowledgement, glancing over to Bones who had yanked himself from the bailiff's grasp, shaking his head toward Jim before reluctantly returning to his seat. Jim released an audible breath as he collapsed onto the now upturned chair, receiving a reassuring pat on the shoulder from Cogley.

"Your reputation precedes you." The man chuckled, "You are a tough one."

"Well, I don't like to disappoint." Jim smirked as the crack of the gavel thundered through the room.

"The trial is back in session—prosecution still has the floor."

"Thank you." Shaw rose from her seat, casting Jim a scornful glare, "Prosecution calls Lieutenant Sulu Hikaru to the stand."

The Asian traipsed through the tables toward the booth, fluently descending onto the chair and glanced warily over to Jim.

"Lieutenant, if Mr. Kirk and Mr. Spock are currently unavailable to command the _Enterprise_, who is third in the chain of command?"

"That would be me."

"I see. Did Mr. Kirk assign or inform you of his leave to _New Vulcan_?"

Sulu frowned, "No, he didn't."

"Is it standard protocol for the Captain to inform you before he goes planet side—especially with the absence of the First Officer?"

He swallowed thickly, eyes darting between Shaw and Jim.

"Yes."

"So, you would agree that he irresponsibly abandoned the ship without leaving anyone in command?"

"I wouldn't personally say 'irresponsibly', but technically yes."

She nodded curtly, glancing back down to the PADD.

"How long was the ship in operation without command?"

Sulu cleared his throat before whispering.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant; I was unable to hear your response." She stated.

Eyebrows furrowing he spat, "Not long."

"Let me rephrase, what is the precise amount of time?" She quickly amended.

A crease appeared along the furrowed brows, "Twelve hours and sixteen minutes."

"I see." She smiled, "And, how were you placed in command? Did Mr. Kirk assign it after the twelve hour interval?"

"No, we received transmission from Admiral Bullock—he placed me in command."

Jim's hands clenched into tight fists, he hadn't thought to inform Sulu—too concerned over Spock's wellbeing to care. If he was guilty of anything, it was putting his ship and crew in danger. How could he have disregarded their safety?

"Allow me to reiterate." She averted her attention from the Asian to address the Admiralty, "Mr. Kirk abandoned the _Enterprise_ without authorization, leaving his subordinates without a commanding officer for over twelve hours, forcing the Admiralty to step in and assign temporary command." She glanced back to Sulu, "Do you believe Mr. Kirk's reckless actions could have initially endangered the crew?"

"There were no potential threats at the time—"

"But was the threat of battle still a possibility as there are several enemies of the Federation?" She quickly interjected.

Sulu sighed heavily, "Yes, there is always a possibility of an unanticipated attack."

"And would the ship have been crippled and the crew injured in such an event with the absence of a commanding officer?"

"Possibly." He stated flatly, body rigid.

"Thank you Lieutenant, no further questions."

Bullock glanced over toward the defending side, "I'm assuming you don't wish to cross-examine?"

"That would be correct." Cogley muttered, ignoring the indignant glare emanating from Jim.

"Does the prosecution wish to call any more witnesses?"

"No." Shaw stated with a triumphant ring in her voice.

"Very well, defense—you have the floor."

"Please tell me you're going to do _something_?" Jim hissed as the man rearranged the books on the table before clumsily ascending again, the chair wobbling unsteadily before slamming down onto the floor with a thud.

Clearing his throat he stated, "I request a short recess to ascertain my client's health before resuming."

Bullock's mouth gaped slightly, taken aback. Jim didn't blame him for his shock, he also stared dumbfounded at his poor excuse for a lawyer—what the hell was the man doing?

The Admiral glanced toward the long line of Admirals with a quizzical glance—most nodded in response and he sighed.

"Request granted. We will resume in thirty minutes."

Jim was jarred from his stunned trance as the bailiff suddenly gripped his arm, hoisting him from the chair. He stumbled as he was guided around the podium and through a back door—Cogley trailing after him, loose papers spilling from the bindings of the thick books. The bailiff led them into an interrogation room and promptly pushed Jim onto the chair at the abnormally long metal table.

"Stay here Mr. Kirk, I'll retrieve the medic." Cogley stated, placing the books onto the table.

Jim snorted incredulously, replying with a snarky remark, "Well, I _was _planning to leave, but now that you've said _that_, I might just have to stick around."

The man released a deep chuckle, "You know…I think I like you, kid."

"I'm flattered." He said blandly.

Cogley flashed a smile before shuffling from the room, the door hissing shut and beeping as it indicated the lock had sealed him inside. He released an elongated breath, threading his finger into his hair as he rubbed at the persistent ache, attempting to relieve it. He rested his head against his hands, elbows propped on the table and didn't look up as the door beeped and hissed open several minutes later.

There was a short pause before a baritone voice echoed within the enclosed space, "I was under the assumption the infamous James Kirk would have already attempted a daring escape—I was apparently mistaken."

A grin steadily grew upon Jim's features. Head still resting against his hands, he addressed the elder Vulcan who now stood beside him, "What are you doing here, Spock?"

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for all your patience! I will attempt to hurry and complete this story (not much left to go). Thank you for reading and please review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

_A grin steadily grew upon Jim's features. Head still resting against his hands, he addressed the elder Vulcan who now stood beside him, "What are you doing here, Spock?"_

"My apologies, is my presence unwelcome?"

Jim shook his head vigorously, the grin still plastered to his face. Shifting his head, he glanced up to the Vulcan. He stood in his Spock-like stance, arms folded behind him, hands clasped at the small of his back. Robes fell loosely over his form, giving the illusion he was much bulkier than he was. Softened dark eyes pinned him with a somber stare.

"No, I'm just surprised is all." The tension he felt seemed to instantaneously melt from his body as he pushed himself up from the table to be eye level with the elderly Vulcan. "I didn't expect you'd be showing up for this."

The ever predictable eyebrow arched curiously, "Oh? Do you discredit my concerns so immensely that you are rendered aghast at the possibility that I may as you referred, 'show up' to such an event?"

Jim laughed sheepishly, "No…I don't know." He shook his head, "My mind's a bit...out of sorts? I don't think that you don't care, really, but…" He released a flustered sound, "I just…I don't know where Spock is and…"

"I see." A twitch occurred at the side of his mouth, "You feel you are…abandoned?"

Jim snorted incredulously, "Well, yeah! He isn't here!"

"You are mistaken, Jim."

Jim paused, ghosting over his face, befuddled.

"I don't catch your meaning." Jim stated dryly.

"You do not—how you phrase—'sense' him?" The elder inquired gently, a glint of an unspoken knowledge stirring within the dark depths of his eyes.

_What's that all about?_

"Uh…" Jim was confused, what the hell was he talking about?

"I see." He released an audible breath, "You require reassurance, Jim. You and _my_ Jim share this trait well. However, I am uncertain how to present it as I am unaware of the extent of your knowledge under the circumstances."

_Huh?_

"What are you talking about, Spock?"

The dark eyes flickered to their right, so quick Jim nearly missed it. He glanced sideways, only to be met with his own reflection in the mirror. What was Spock attempting to tell him? Why was he being incredibly cryptic?

"Jim." The tone forced him to return his gaze to the Vulcan, soft eyes bearing down upon him with such intensity, he shifted his weight uncomfortably, "Have you fared well during the trial without the presence of Mr. Spock?"

_Well, that was certainly an odd thing to ask._

"What?"

"Have you felt distracted, or possibly unlike yourself?"

Now Jim was convinced Spock was up to something.

"Uh, no…I've been able to concentrate. Why?"

The hard gaze softened again, the glint returning. If Jim didn't know better, he'd swear the Vulcan was almost laughing at him. Had he said something comical?

"I am merely curious, Jim."

Why was he under the impression he was missing something?

"Uh, alright, old man." Jim released a breathy laugh, "You still haven't told me why you're here."

The small twitch occurred at the corner of his mouth again, "I have been summoned for your trial, Jim. You had not presumed that a possible reason?"

"Well…maybe I did a little. But I didn't realize you were allowed to expose yourself?" The glint in the dark depths flickered and Jim was positive the Vulcan was laughing at him again. "What?"

"I do not plan to _expose _myself, Jim."

_Did he just make a sexual joke? _

Heat crept into his face, "Well, then…I don't know." He murmured.

Several moments of silence passed before the elder spoke again.

"My apologies for taking my leave, Jim, but I was only granted a short visit with you." Spock stated softly, eyes flicking to the right again and Jim glanced over to his reflection.

"Uh, yeah, I understand. Don't worry about it." He scrutinized the mirror curiously, watching from his peripheral vision as the Vulcan pivoted on his heel and strode toward the door. "Hey, Spock."

The elder Vulcan paused, turning back slightly, "Yes, Jim?"

Jim grinned at the mirror momentarily, allowing his eyes to soften as he whispered, "Thank you."

The elderly Vulcan nodded curtly. Jim watched the corner of Spock's mouth ascend once more in the reflection.

The elderly Vulcan understood that comment was not just meant for him.

It was also discreetly directed to the much younger one hidden beyond the glass.

He was certain the message rang clear for them both.

_Thank you for not leaving me—thank you for loving me. _

* * *

The medic had arrived as Cogley had promised, and he once again endured the horrid sting of the hypo. He was almost certain his lawyer enjoyed his reaction as much as Bones—did everyone find humor in his pain? Although, he would've gladly accepted countless rounds with the device than return to the anxious courtroom that was alive with a roaring buzz. Apparently, the first half of the trial was juicy enough to gossip about for a half an hour.

Either that or they were all discussing how incredibly charming and handsome he was.

Yeah, it had to be the latter for sure.

Jim shuffled to his seat, sliding onto the chair reluctantly, placing his cuffed hands onto the table with a loud clink. Cogley slid into his own, still cradling his books as though they were the most precious items he'd ever owned. Jim seriously hoped that Spock had a plan for hiring this man. Truthfully, he was struggling to see any _logic _behind the Vulcan's decision.

That had to be a first.

The bailiff again asked them to rise as the Admiralty filtered inside. Once seated the trial promptly continued and Jim wasn't quite certain if he felt ready enough to face the possible outcome lurking only mere minutes away.

"Does the defense desire to call a witness?" Bullock asked dryly, clearly irritated and uninterested in what the lawyer's response would be.

"Yes." Gasps rang out in the silence, "Defense calls, Ambassador S. to the stand."

Jim suppressed a smile as the elderly Vulcan glided to the booth, fluently descending. Cogley stumbled over to the man, stretching his arms awkwardly before him.

"Ambassador," Cogley began, an air of professionalism suddenly sweeping over his demeanor, "If I may, as you were summoned from _New Vulcan_ to attend this trial, you have the immediate right as an—and please forgive the term—"alien" race to make a personal statement. Is there a statement you wish to make before we begin the line of questioning?"

"Yes." The Vulcan nodded, "As you know, the Vulcans' have consistently been an ally for the Federation and we do not plan to sever the ties that have progressed steadily through the course of time. However," The Admirals' physically tensed, "the elders have come to an agreement that if our cultural requirements are not properly considered in this trial and Mr. Kirk is imprisoned, we will be forced to do so."

The courtroom erupted in pandemonium over the scandal. Jim glanced over toward the prosecution to see Shaw had paled, her fists clenching and flexing angrily. As Bullock again demanded silence of the room, Jim averted his eyes from her to the Vulcan whom stared blankly ahead—unreadable.

_Damn. _Jim covered the smirk forming upon his features with his hands. _The old man's good. _

"Ambassador, doesn't that seem a bit _extreme_?" Komack inquired incredulously from beside Bullock, face tinting a pale red.

"On the contrary, we have determined it to be the most logical option." Spock replied evenly.

Jim's grin expanded, still hidden behind his hands.

The Admiralty wanted to play hardball and gang up on Jim. Now the elder Vulcan had just thrown them an unanticipated curveball—a 'no-win scenario'.

Jim could just _kiss _that witty, cunning Vulcan right now.

"Admirals, may we continue?" Cogley inquired coolly, arms stretching awkwardly behind him.

Jim suppressed the sudden desire to laugh. Each Admiral paled as Bullock feebly replied, "You may."

"Thank you." Cogley stated, straightening as he approached the elder Spock, "Ambassador, since we must discuss the cultural ritual that has taken place, are you amenable to respond to a more in depth questioning on the subject?"

"I am, as I have participated in the ritual personally."

"Will you elaborate on what the ritual pertains to?" Cogley inquired curiously.

"Vulcans require a mate—as Humans do not. With each seven year interval, a ritual takes place where a Vulcan must physically interact with their fated mate. In the event that this does not take place, the Vulcan will perish."

"You imply the Vulcan will die?"

"Yes."

"I see." Cogley nodded vigorously, a hand cupping his chin as to look contemplative and failing miserably.

_Well, at least he's finally doing something._

"Ambassador, do Vulcans choose their mates?"

"On rare occasions, however, they are mostly pre-selected when they are of adolescence. Even rare circumstances are known to happen that a fated mate is not of the pre-selected."

"So, you are indicating that there is a type of paranormal phenomena that occurs in the selection?"

"No quite." Spock stated, ticking his head slightly, "Although, as I have never heard it compared before, I am inclined to agree to a certain degree. Vulcans are telepathic beings as is well-known, we determine the appropriate mate in a more intimate aspect."

"When a mate is 'selected', are you able to perform the ritual with another?"

"No."

"It must be that desired mate?"

"Yes."

"Ambassador, do all Vulcans go through this ritual willingly?"

"We do not." He stated flatly, "It is a part of our nature."

"And would Mr. Spock be susceptible to this?"

A flicker occurred within the dark depths as he dolefully replied, "Definitely."

Cogley rolled his neck—soft popping sounds filtered the air.

"Ambassador, is it a possibility that Mr. Spock had chosen a mate, only to quickly acknowledge that his intended mate happened to be Mr. Kirk?"

"It is a possible theory." The elder's tone softened.

"And if it were not for Mr. Kirk's participation, could Mr. Spock have died?"

"I harbor not doubt that he would have."

"Ambassador, if Mr. Kirk had not acted as he had and Mr. Spock had perished, would the Vulcan race hold him accountable for the Vulcan's death?"

Jim perked up at the question, curious.

"Yes."

"And why is that?"

"We are an endangered species. The Federation is responsible for certain obligations and liabilities." A hint of acrimony underlined the even tone. "Those regulations are to be honored and respected."

Jim didn't think it was possible, but the Admirals' faces paled a few shades lighter.

"So, would you call Mr. Kirk's accused 'reckless actions' to defy orders as justifiable to sustain the longevity of your species? And would you also agree that he was not breaching protocol or acting solely on emotions by saving his First Officer's—a _Vulcan's_ life?"

"Yes, I believe his decisions to be most logical."

"And in the direness of the situation, do you believe Mr. Kirk could be spared judgment of this one time occurrence of prematurely abandoning ship?" Cogley inquired tentatively.

"What is the phrase that is most common? Oh yes," The dark eyes glinted and Jim automatically deciphered that the old Vulcan was laughing, "He is 'only human'."

* * *

**A/N: You tell them, Spock! Thanks for reading and please review!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: "Dataworf", they indeed bitch slapped Starfleet! Thank you for wording your comment that way—it made my day!**

* * *

**Chapter 22**

Cogley issued a small smile toward the Vulcan, "Thank you Ambassador, I have no further questions." He turned from the booth and strode with a confident step back over toward Jim's table.

"The prosecution desires to cross-examine!" Shaw nearly shouted, rising hastily from her chair before the Admirals could compose themselves. While Bullock issued a feeble nod, she stormed from her table toward the elderly Vulcan, face set in stern lines.

Spock stared with a softened expression, clearly not intimidated.

"Ambassador," she began, attempting to keep her anger in check, trembling diminutively, "does the Vulcan embassy have evidence supporting that the ritual has taken place and it was not merely an unauthorized romantic getaway?"

Jim shook his head. Shaw was clutching at straws, clearly desperate.

The Vulcan nodded slightly, "It would be difficult to distinguish which as they are nearly similar. However, there were indeed witnesses to Mr. Spock's demeanor upon his arrival—as there are certain characteristics Vulcans possess prior to the ritual."

"So, you are indicating that we should solely take the word of a Vulcan in this case?"

Spock's head ticked to the side slightly, "Vulcans cannot lie."

"Fine." She stated harshly and Jim resisted the urge to snicker, "Ambassador, there is a law stating that two commanding officers aboard a Star Ship are prohibited from engaging in any intimate fraternization due to the possibility of succumbing to emotional compromise during a crises. As we are now allegedly admitting that Mr. Kirk and Mr. Spock are involved with another, do you believe this protocol should be obeyed and Starfleet should be allowed to file charges as Mr. Kirk have chosen to defy it?"

Spock stilled momentarily, contemplating. The tension in the room was palpable; it could almost be cut with a knife.

"I do not agree. Their decisions were not made willingly as I have previously explained, and if there is any presence of requited intimate emotion between them, that would not be of Starfleet's concern. I have not found a rule stating two commanding officers were not allowed to possess 'feelings' for one another, only one that states they are not to initiate intimate activities such as a 'romantic relationship'. I believe a Captain and a First Officer commonly share a certain degree of fondness for one another and if we are basing this—as Humans phrase—'witch hunt' purely on personal emotions, then should the entire fleet of commanding officers be placed under arrest as well?"

Shaw went rigid, a shade of pale red tinting her features.

"Besides," The elder continued, "I have not witnessed the presence of Mr. Spock in the duration of this trial, and it appears Mr. Kirk has not been compromised as you are surely aware of his notorious reputation to blurt his disapproval regardless of the circumstances." A small twitch occurred at the corner of the Vulcan's mouth, "I do not find him distracted or detatched during this stressful event."

"Ambassador, this is an entirely different circumstance. Neither one of them is in danger—"

"On the contrary," He interjected, "Mr. Kirk's remaining life span is at stake. This would be the opportune time for Mr. Kirk and Mr. Spock to succumb to their emotions."

"In the heat of battle, they're relationship could prove hazardous. Mr. Kirk had previously breached the prime directive to rescue Mr. Spock." She spat through gritted teeth.

"And were there casualties in this occurrence, Miss Shaw?" He inquired pleasantly.

She huffed softly, "No, but do you believe it is possible that in the future, their intimate inclinations could initially endanger the crew?"

"I believe any Captain and First Officer possess that capability with or without an intimate notion." Spock stated firmly.

Shaw physically tensed, acknowledging full well she was fighting a losing battle.

"I have no further questions." She muttered bitterly as she pivoted and marched back to her designated seat.

"This is insane!" Komack shouted, rising from his chair as the elderly Vulcan stepped from the booth. "You're telling us that our regulations don't apply in the slightest due to a few flaws?"

He halted abruptly, registering he was being addressed.

"I do not imply any of your standard regulations as erroneous; however, there are cultural circumstances that must be considered along with certain hypocrisies. As the questioning has concluded, that will be my final statement." Swiftly, the elder maneuvered from the room, exiting through the doors without a second glance.

"Defense rests and we do not wish to make a closing statement as it is quite clear the 'hero' of Starfleet has already been given one." Cogley stated after a loud hiss pierced the air, indicating the elder's departure. Plopping onto his chair, he glanced sideways at Jim, issuing him a small wink.

Jim was too stunned and impressed that all he was able to return was a curt nod.

"Prosecution rests and does not desire a closing statement as well." Shaw stated, arms folded angrily over her chest, eyes fixated on a distant point on the wall, seething.

"Very well." Bullock cleared his throat, "There will be a short recess to deliberate on the charges, then the sentence will be rendered."

* * *

Jim once again was placed in the interrogation room. The overhead light flickered periodically as he feverishly paced the floor, nearly toppling over when he'd step too far, the chains preventing him from his usual fluent movement. The metal of the handcuffs had rubbed the skin around his wrists raw, and they ached immensely. His palms sweated as he attempted to rid himself of his nervous energy.

Too many emotions flooded him at once: Fear, hope, sadness, longing, anger. Overwhelming him to the point where he was certain he'd lose it. Would they heed the elder's warning or did they simply detest Jim that much to lose the support of the Vulcans? How could they brush off all of Jim's accomplishments, how could they aspire to strike him down?

Jim had faced Nero.

Jim had faced Khan.

Jim had gone a round with a Vulcan without any type of weapon to defend himself.

So why _now_ did he feel terrified?

_Let's try to think of the possibilities and what could be positive about it._

He sighed and he contemplated the consequences. He could be imprisoned for life. It wasn't as bad as he initially thought; he'd at least be able to torment Tiny while he was there.

_But I wouldn't have Spock._

He could be dishonorably discharged, stripped of his titles and casted out of Starfleet. The job hunt would be incredibly difficult given his rap sheet that was a mile long, and he was sure his mother wouldn't be so welcoming when he'd return to Riverside. Although, he could still get by even if he was forced to live a mediocre life, it wouldn't be that mind numbing.

_But would Spock leave Starfleet? Would he choose stay on the ship and leave me behind?_

As the endless possibilities wreaked havoc over his mind, he missed the distinguished hissing of the doors and the soft footfalls approaching him. As he pivoted for what seemed to be about the hundredth time, he jerked and stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed who was standing patiently in front of him. The young Vulcan straightened, squaring his shoulder, his arms folded behind him with his hands clasped at the small of his back. Dark eyes regarded Jim with a guarded emotion.

A sudden pressure built in Jim's chest, hindering his ability to breathe as tears stung at his eyes. He blinked rapidly, fighting for control.

He would not cry.

He would _not _cry.

He was James Tiberius Kirk—Captain of the _Enterprise_.

The Captain doesn't cry, especially over a Vulcan.

"Jim." Spock said softly, bridging the gap between them with a two long strides, his hand sliding from around his back, heated pads of fingers brushing against Jim's face. A subtle buzz hummed through his skull at the contact, the moment his fingers touched Jim's flesh, the tears he had attempted to keep at bay flooded to the surface, spilling onto his cheeks in rapid streams. He silently cursed himself.

"Where were y—?"

Heated lips suddenly crashed into his, he hadn't even seen Spock move. The motion caused him to sway backwards, the chain catching his foot as he reflexively stepped back. A strong arm caught him quickly around the waist as he stumbled, the lips still locked on his. The hand pressed him flush against Spock's body, cringing as the cuffs bit into the tender skin. The position was extremely uncomfortable; however, he couldn't pull away even if he wanted to.

And he _didn't_ want to.

The kiss was heady, hungry. The hand cupping Jim's face caressed his flesh gingerly, coaxing him to deepen the kiss, allowing the coarse tongue to slide into the crevice of his mouth. A deep moan emanated from him as Spock fed at his mouth, tender and soft, yet with a passion that he had only encountered on that particular night back onboard the ship. The subtle buzz at the back of his skull had intensified, jumbling his thoughts, barely acknowledging the impact of his back against the wall.

After what felt like an eternity of bliss, the lips pulled away. He gasped, panting as Spock leaned back enough to scrutinize him with a softened gaze. The buzz quieted, his heartbeat roared in his ears as he recovered from the—damn, it sounded unmanly—tender kiss.

Jim stood sandwiched between the wall and Spock, captivated by the dark depths of his eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul.

_Yeah, Jim, that sounded manly too._

"Spock." Jim said breathlessly, "Wha—?"

"I am uncertain of your fate, _T'hy'la_. I did not desire to lose this opportunity should the sentence be unfavorable."

Spoke's hand caressed his face tenderly as he felt heat flush his features.

"What…" Jim cleared his throat as he struggled regained his composure, "What does that mean? That word?"

Damn, wasn't he supposed to be upset with Spock? Wasn't he supposed to be demanding where the Vulcan had been hiding the entire time? Why was he asking this question instead?

As though Spock had read his mind—and most likely he did—the corner of his mouth twitched, a glint of amusement flickering in the dark orbs as he replied, "There is no true definition, but as I acknowledge your compulsive need for knowledge that is beyond your comprehension, I will roughly translate it for you. _T'hy'la _means 'friend', 'brother', 'lover', in a singular term: soul-mate."

His breath hitched at the word "soul-mate".

"That's very poetic of you, Spock." Jim jested meekly, a small grin expanding on his features.

The Vulcan remained silent, leaning in to place a brief, soft kiss against his lips again before pulling away completely, creating a gap between their bodies. He whimpered softly, already missing the feel of Spock pressed against him.

"I must leave, _T'hy'la_, my visit was determined to be brief."

Jim scoffed at him, "Hey, I didn't even get a chance to be _mad _at you yet!"

The Vulcan ticked his head to the side, eyebrow arching curiously.

"It appears you will have to endure until the trial concludes."

Jim snorted incredulously, "Yeah, well, don't think you're going to get off easy. I have a _lot _to yell at you for." He paused, "Unless they decide…"

The slender fingers reached out, entwining with his—a strange tingle shot through his arm at the contact.

"Do not fear, _T'hy'la_, I will be present for the verdict. And should they decide to imprison you, I will endeavor to pursue an appeal."

Jim issued a half-hearted grin, his heart racing as he whispered, "I love you, you crazy pointy-eared bastard."

The corner of the Vulcan's lips twitched at the comment, and Jim recognized the glint of laughter within the dark orbs.

"I cherish thee as well, Jim."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please review!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: !*IMPORTANT*! So…the story ends, and I've been going back and forth with the possibility of writing a sequel. If I do, it will dive into their new relationship, Jim's past, Sarek's reaction, and a certain "twist". If you're at all interested, please let me know with your final reviews! And if I chose to write the sequel (which most likely I will), then I will post the first chapter on here as a "preview". Thanks!**

* * *

**Chapter 23**

The courtroom was alive again as he sat at the table, staring intently at the empty seats of the Admiralty. His hands flexed and clenched repeatedly, heart hammering in his chest as pressure built steadily in his chest. As though Cogley had sensed it, he leaned toward him, a hand gripping his arm reassuringly.

"Hey, kid, are you all right?"

Jim released an elongated breath.

"Yeah."

The man shook his head, chuckling, "This isn't my first rodeo kid—you're a cat on hot bricks."

Jim glanced at him, eyebrow rising in confusion, "What?"

Cogley replied with another chuckle, clapping him hard on the back, "You're a riot kid. I'm really glad I took this assignment, it's been entertaining."

Jim rolled his eyes, "You're a crazy old bat."

"Why thank you." He grinned wryly, exposing yellowing teeth.

"What's with the books anyway?" Jim inquired, glancing at the tattered and worn covers.

As though Cogley hadn't noticed them lying on the metal surface, his eyebrows hiked with surprise, hand seeking one out, caressing it gingerly as though it were a familiar lover, "Oh, these? Well, they're actually from the twentieth century. I like antiques and these just so happened to be useful today."

"You too huh?" Jim beamed, "And how so?"

Cogley hesitated briefly before sliding one of the books across the sleek surface, tilting his head down to gesture toward the title.

Jim glanced down at it, squinting as he attempted to make out the faded lettering.

_Martin Luther King: A Biography_

"Huh?" He pinned Cogley with an inquisitive stare, "Why this?"

"My dear boy!" Cogley exclaimed, "Do you not read?" Retrieving the book, he cradled it against him, stroking the binding tenderly. "He was a man who believed in equality."

"So…you're saying that his ambitions helped in my case?" Jim reiterated, baffled.

"Yes!" He grinned, "He had not just meant race by his speech, but cultures as well."

"And?"

"_And _I used his examples to help aid me in your defense as our society has chosen to follow the morals he had hoped someday would be practiced by all." He winked, "A prime example: Starfleet."

Jim grinned, "I should give you a bit more credit, but I had been plotting your death there for a while."

Cogley clapped him on the back once more, "I figured as much." Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, he hastily rearranged the books neatly before stating, "I see your friend has arrived."

Jim's head whipped around, observing as his Vulcan fluently strolled through the crowd toward Bones who made an impetuous gesture with his arm followed by what looked to be an indignant comment. Jim could only assume what was said as the Vulcan came to an abrupt halt beside him, ticking his head before responding, eliciting an exasperated eye roll from the doctor before removing his jacket and PADD from the seat beside him.

Jim made a quick mental note to tease him later about saving a seat for his 'boyfriend'.

The Vulcan swiftly descended onto the seat, dark eyes seeking out Jim, ignoring the securitizations and whispered gossip of the cadets surrounding him.

_I am here, T'hy'la._

Jim issued a tiny grin before rotating to face frontward, silently hoping he had not drawn attention to that small notion.

"You're a lucky man, Mr. Kirk."

Jim glanced at him quizzically.

"To have the love and loyalty of a Vulcan is rare." Cogley elaborated before pausing a moment to ponder, "Plus their skin is flawless, what I wouldn't give to touch beautiful skin like that!"

Jim couldn't resist, he laughed. The sound carried over the roar of the crowd, causing them to instantly quiet and observe him curiously.

He was about to reply with a witty comment when the Admiralty filed inside. The placid demeanor fled from him, tension and fear replacing the small moment of tranquility. The Admiralty scrutinized him heavily, their bodies rigid, reluctantly descending upon their designated seats.

"We have reached a verdict." Bullock declared icily, "Will the defendant rise."

Jim trembled as he clumsily ascended, Cogley offering aid by placing a supporting hand underneath his elbow. He swallowed thickly before straightening, squaring his shoulders as he held his head high.

If he was going down, it would be with dignity.

"The Federation has decided that Captain James Tiberius Kirk will be acquitted of all charges; _however_," Bullock stated with emphasis, gripping the gavel tightly in his hand, "We must also take into account the severity of this situation." He pinned Jim with an indignant stare, "You are hereby suspended from active duty for one full year and will continue your parole grounded on Earth or _New Vulcan_. Once the year has concluded, you may return to your assignments and regain command of the _Enterprise_." He sighed softly, "You are free to go. Court is dismissed."

* * *

Stunned did not describe how he felt as he was directed back through the tunnel and into the holding cell. Speechless as the cuffs were removed, fumbling with the standard Starfleet black fatigues as they were thrust toward him. After discarding the grey prison garments, he was ushered down a long stretch of hallway and out the door into the main lobby.

"Mr. Kirk, if you'd sign here." A feminine voice chimed from beside him, observing her warily as she ascended from her chair behind the counter.

Jim nodded mutely as he approached her, accepting the PADD and scribbling his signature onto it. The woman graced him with a small smile as he returned it.

"Thank you."

He returned the gesture with a tight-lipped smile before turning toward the main doors, abruptly halting as his eyes lay upon a dark figure lurking at the entrance. He surmised the Vulcan would be there, yet he felt somewhat alarmed by his presence. And as he shuffled over to him, he slowly acknowledged the reason he felt so stricken.

"Hey." He murmured, eyes averted, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants.

A pale hand reached out, and Jim quickly diverted from its grasp, eyes remaining fixated on a distant focal point.

"Jim…you are troubled?"

Jim sighed.

"Could we…take a walk? I'd rather not discuss it here." He hesitated briefly before re-connecting his gaze with the Vulcan.

Spock's demeanor had become resigned, squaring his shoulders and folding his arms behind his back.

"Certainly." He replied evenly, pivoting on his heel and striding out the door.

Jim released another sigh before he ensued, scrutinizing the broad shoulders of the Vulcan's back as they trekked from the prison to a neighboring garden. The sun had been concealed by a heavy layer of clouds, dimming the sky a gloomy shade of grey.

They weaved their way through the rows of rosebushes and into a small clearing pinpointed directly in the center of the flowered maze—the fountain occupying the small space had been previously switched off, leaving it to appear barren and dead.

"Spock."

The Vulcan halted.

"Yes, Mr. Kirk?"

Jim flinched at the formality.

"I…" He trailed off, the right words eluding him.

"I understand. I will petition the elders to dissolve our bond immediately."

Jim blinked, "_What_? Dissolve? No, Spock, that's not what I—"

The Vulcan pivoted, pinning him with a dark stare.

"Then what is the reason you have requested a private audience with me?"

He released an aggravated sigh.

"Don't you remember? I've lost my ship for an entire year, Spock! I'm grounded—my five year mission is put on hold and I'll be stuck _here_ while you…" His eyes downcast, one hand absentmindedly rubbing at the raw skin on his wrist, wincing, "You know…"

How could he ask Spock to stay? The Vulcan deserved to be in space.

A silence filtered between them momentarily before there was a swish of cloth and Jim watched as two dark boots stepped into view.

"_Ashayam_." Jim jerked in alarm as the Vulcan's hands cupped his face, gently raising it before silk lips gently pressed against his. It was chaste, tender, and he released a small irritated breath as the lips pulled away too soon. "I will not abandon you."

"But—" He was quickly silenced as Spock placed two fingers against his lips.

"_Taluhk nash-veh k'dular, T'hy'la." _He whispered_, "_You are my _bond-mate_, I do not intend to allow you to suffer due to my absence."

As the fingers slipped away, he smirked, "So, we'll be just two peas in a pod then, eh?"

The ever predictable eyebrow arched and he chuckled softly.

"Never mind." He shook his head before pinning him with a hardened gaze, "You do remember I'm still mad at you right?"

It was the Vulcan's turn to release an audible breath.

"Jim, I possess an eidetic memory—"

"Yeah, yeah, you haven't forgotten, I gotcha." Jim beamed, "Well, first thing's first, we need to locate Uhura and Bones."

Spock's head ticked the side, "And what is the reason to seek out these individuals?"

Jim's smile expanded.

"Well, one—we need to mend the friendship with Uhura. And two—we're going to need Bones when Uhura beats the shit out of me." Jim paused, "On second thought…maybe we could wait a little while. I'm sure Bones is dying to strangle me too."

The corner of the Vulcan's mouth twitched, a flicker of emotion fleeting momentarily in his eyes, "Your perplexing deliberation is…amusing."

Jim smiled as he reached out, a hand caressing the warm pale flesh of Spock's cheek, surprised that the Vulcan permitted such a physical act while in a public setting.

"You're with James Kirk," Jim declared, "be prepared for a wild ride."

Another flicker of emotion stirred beneath the dark depths, another twitch occurring at the corner of his mouth.

"Indeed."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you SO much to all my readers, followers, favorite-ers, and reviewers! Truly, I thoroughly enjoyed each and every review! **

**Once again (If you missed it above), I am seriously contemplating writing a sequel. If you think I should (and most likely I will), please say so in your final reviews. If I decide to, I will post the first chapter of the sequel on here as a "preview". **

**Thank you ALL so much again!**


	24. Sequel Announcement

**A/N: Hey guys! So, since most of you demanded it, I have begun the sequel. And yes the first chapter is now posted! Go check it out! And thank you again for following this series!**

**The Sequel: "T'nash-veh"**

**Thank you all again!**


End file.
